Sanvean
by thedeadflag
Summary: Kids at McKinley, including a gleek, have gone missing, and the town's spiraled into a panic, increasing police presence and instilling a curfew. It only takes a few days for the restrictions to get to Santana, who bucks curfew to go on a late-night run. When she runs into a familiar face in need of help, her world turns upside down. Faberritana friendship (romance tbd later on)
1. Chapter 1

It was almost as if nothing had changed, the first week after Rachel Berry went missing. If Santana was to be honest, nearly everyone at McKinley more or less went about their business unaffected by the news of the event. Most didn't seem to notice the pint-sized diva was gone, and of those that did, most didn't care at all. The few that did were predictably in glee club.

Apparently, the girl had been invited to some party one town over by some acquaintance from a summer theatre camp. Never one to deny an invitation to a social event, Berry went, though not without protest; Kurt had advised her to stay away due to some Carmel students apparently being in town for it, the egging incident clearly something the boy considered that Rachel hadn't. Either way, the girl hadn't come home that Friday night or Saturday, and by the time Sunday had rolled around there was a missing person's report filed.

Santana had asked around about the party, but no one had really been able to tell her anything noteworthy, mostly because no one really remembered her being there. It wasn't that she was going out of her mind with worry, but she was pretty concerned. Besides, Santana missed teasing Berry, she missed the girl's singing and dancing, and she knew the diva was the glue that held glee together. Okay, so she wouldn't admit it, but she was pretty damn worried.

Which was more than she could say about some others, really. Mercedes had actually openly hoped short-stack was okay, all while saying she was happy for more solo opportunities in the meantime. Finn was concerned, but figured that maybe she pulled a crazy diva storm-out and just needed time to cool down, or that maybe she was sick and needed time away. Neither of which made sense, because Berry was totes mindful of her dads, and there was no way the girl would put them through that hell. Artie was more or less indifferent, Quinn was silent on the matter, and Britt was worried, but more confused than anything, knowing Rachel loved glee and hated missing it. The blonde had thought that maybe Rachel had met new friends and lost track of time while hanging out with them, and Santana just didn't have the heart to crush her friend's enthusiasm that Berry maybe made new friends. Tina and Mike were the only two who were in the same boat as Santana, floating on the waters of reality; they knew Rachel was punctual, and she'd never miss glee or class unless something big happened to keep her from it. And that just had Santana constantly fighting away realistic, horrible thoughts that the last time she'd ever see the diva was when she'd rolled her eyes at one of her show-tune recommendations. It felt bad, regretful, like a pit in her stomach; it was a feeling she didn't really get, like, ever.

And then another week passed, state police coordinating efforts for more search parties and a more thorough investigation, but it was fruitless; days passed without any progress. Lima's main streets were covered in notices about the girl, and that's when morale started slipping. Puck predictably came to the rescue with a party to help boost people's spirits, one that Santana had wanted to go to in order to dance off her funk, but Brittany was away that weekend with Artie and Quinn was off at some weird church thing, so she held off. She was perfectly aware how drunk she got without anyone to keep tabs on her, and it would have turned her general vicinity into ground-zero for a weep-a-thon. Which totes wasn't cool or good for her rep, so she spent the night inside instead, deciding to have a lazy, home-bound weekend.

It was when she arrived back at school the next Monday that she learned Azimio and Leah, one of her junior Cheerios, had gone missing. Both were much more visible, notable peers, and the school was more or less rife with panicking students, only made worse by the assembly that was called to inform everyone of a nine o'clock city-wide curfew set to kick in that night. It seemed like a pretty arbitrary time, given that the days were growing shorter, and the sun was setting earlier, but she figured it wasn't the worst idea. Three missing students from McKinley DID seem like a pattern of sorts.

It was that weekend when her patience with the curfew officially ran out. Not that Santana usually went out after nine each night, but the sheer knowledge that she couldn't was stifling. Especially given that Britt was away again, and Quinn wasn't answering her phone, leaving her without any entertainment for the night.

She knew she was being foolish, immature, and potentially putting herself in danger, but when she cracked open her front door and stepped out in her running gear, she felt relief. Now, Santana wasn't an idiot, she was aware of the risks, and had opted to not bring her headphones, knowing that it could be useful to hear her surroundings, and that the music was too much of a distraction either way. _And it's not like I'm gonna be out for long…I just need to take a quick run…_

Santana quickly made her way through one of her regular routes, one she'd probably do more often with the changing leaves and everything, as it led into a number of parks. Under normal circumstances, she knew parks weren't the best lit places, and there certainly wasn't anyone around that time of night to hear her if anything went wrong, but all three kids had disappeared deep inside the towns they were taken, in well populated communities. An isolated park just seemed like a slightly safer option, given the context.

However, about an hour into her run, she heard something that gave her pause. Santana was midway through one of her favourite little nature trails when she heard the distinct sound of crying; it was faint, and a little muffled, but she knew that someone was nearby, and maybe in trouble. Her pace slowed to a stop, taking a second or two to ensure that she heard correctly, and that for once in her life she was really considering helping someone. _What if it's someone that, like, escaped? Or maybe they fought off someone and…fuck, people have been going missing, and two people are better than one for protection, right?_

Santana made the decision to walk into a secluded picnic area and toward the noise; the full moon wasn't giving her much help with most of the leaves still on the trees, but it was enough for her to see that the underside of one of the picnic tables was a little darker than the rest.

"Hey…are you alright?" she asked softly, trying to be quiet in case anyone dangerous was around. She couldn't believe her luck, especially since she wasn't sure whether it was good or bad yet, but if she could help someone out, then by all means. _Hell, maybe it's just some lost kid or something, maybe it's not even related…_

The only greeting she received were slightly louder sobs, which only solidified her certainty that someone was under the bench a few feet away from her. Santana slowly crept toward it and knelt to look underneath, thankful that her eyes were attuned to the darkness. She'd been expecting something, even if it was just a vague idea of someone. She hadn't expected to see a violently torn-up and bleeding Rachel Berry, looking like she was a few seconds away from death from some of the wounds and how bloody she was.

Santana wasn't sure how, but she pushed her fear and panic aside and just focused on what needed to be done. "Rachel." She called out quietly, not earning a response by the sobbing diva, whose eyes were closed with fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. She reached out an arm to the wounded girl, gently touching one of the diva's arms wrapped around her stomach, but Rachel just flinched and scooted away, looking terrified and in hellish pain.

"Please, no…no…just please, I can't…please…" Rachel pleaded weakly, her voice sounding as if she hadn't spoken in weeks, which truly could have been the case. Now, Santana had never been Berry's fondest fan, but she was in glee, and like Britt told her after nationals the previous year, glee was family. Santana Lopez understood family.

"I'm here to help, Rachel. I just want to get you somewhere safe, okay?" she asked, certain her eyes were just as wide as Berry's brown ones staring terrified back at her. Knowing the girl didn't have much time left with how she was bleeding, Santana pulled out her cell-phone, quickly putting in the three digits to declare an emergency.

Rachel's voice cried out to her as she pressed the third digit. "Please, no! I can't…can't go to the hospital."

Santana took in the absolute terror in the diva's voice and nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced, given the girl's condition. "Your parents are worried sick, Berry. I'm worried sick, okay? Your dad's a doc in the ER, he could help patch you up, please." She pleaded hastily, knowing it was the first time she'd done so in a very, very long time, but she wasn't about to have Berry die on her. She couldn't even fathom it, so she sure as fuck wasn't going to let it happen.

"I can't. I wouldn't be safe there." The girl stated firmly, and Santana honestly couldn't see a trace of insincerity on the girl's usually very readable face.

It took her a few seconds to formulate any words, because her mind was going crazy trying to think up what options she had. Honestly, she was drawing a blank. "Okay, you look really messed up right now, and you're gonna need help, Berry. If I can't call 9-1-1, then you really need to tell me who can help, please." She was white-knuckle clutching her phone, each forward movement she made to get closer met with an equal scoot away. She'd never seen the diva give up before, she couldn't believe that Rachel would just let herself bleed out, so Santana knew she had to think of something. She knew that her running gear wasn't anything awesome, but it was material, maybe enough to cover up and help dress some of the wounds in the short term.

"Just leave, Santana." The girl's order was strained and sad and entirely unconvincing. It infuriated Santana that the girl would just tell her to leave, as if she was some fucking monster who would do that all willy-nilly.

"Fuck no, Rachel! Not happening, so tell me what happened and how to help, because the Rachel Berry I know wouldn't let herself go out like this!" she grit out, quickly moving to the other side of the table that Berry was closest to, which had Rachel scrambling and slumping over in pain, only crying harder at the attempt to shift away.

Taking the initiative, she reached out and gently brought the girl out from under the table, Rachel's protests barely noticeable as the girl sobbed and shook. Santana had to stifle a sob as she saw the full damage inflicted on the girl. In all honesty, it was baffling that Rachel was still alive, conscious, and hadn't bled out in a matter of seconds from how cut open and bloody she was. _God, I don't think I've ever seen so much blood! Fuck!_

"Stay…stay away from me, Santana, please." Rachel cried out weakly, pressing a shaking hand against the taller girl's chest in a feeble attempt to keep Santana at bay. Santana, of course, swatted the hand away as lightly as she could manage and quickly got to work at pulling her own clothes off, preparing them to dress the diva's wounds.

"I just so happened to break curfew tonight to go for a run, and coincidentally ran into someone I've been hoping would come back to us for weeks. I'm not letting you out of my sight, Rachel, and I'm NOT letting you die, okay? So help me…I need you to help me, Rachel." Her words were hastily spoken and perhaps muffled in spots from her tearing her clothes with her teeth, too intent on keeping the diva alive to focus on much of anything else.

"It's dangerous being here, Santana." Rachel protested, trying to move her leg out of the way as Santana wrapped one of the girl's wounds tightly, quickly tearing off another strip of her workout pants right after.

"No shit! We need to get out of here asap, so just hold still, okay?" Santana felt desperate as she looked at all the damage; she wasn't sure she'd have enough to cover it all, but she'd do her best.

Rachel once again tried to push her away. "I've lost too much blood, you…you need to leave."

Santana shook her head, not at all giving up on the diva. Not yet, not while she was applying her third bandage, hoping that maybe when she was done, she could hoist the girl over her shoulder and just sprint home. "Don't talk like that, you're going to make it. I'm getting you out of here." She bit back sternly, and for the first time that night, Rachel's eyes went dark. Like, fucking dark. Scary dark, and her glare was kind of freaky.

"Leave, Santana." Rachel growled, and if she didn't know that the girl had a crazy voice with a slew of accents and amazing vocal control, she might have been freaked out. It was typical Berry, using her acting skills to try and scare her.

"Nope, fuck you." Santana noted, her chipper, lighthearted tone not exactly seeming to win the diva over. _Well, I guess I did swear at her_… she mused as she finished hastily dressing another wound.

Rachel growled as she continued her ministrations, and eventually gave a push that had a surprising bit of force behind it, though not enough to topple her. "More are on their way to finish the job, and they'll hurt you if you don't leave now. Please…leave."

Santana lifted her head and listened to the forested area around her; wind was rustling the leaves in the trees and on the ground, but there was a different sound coming from far ahead, something that sounded a little like branches snapping. Which, to Santana, meant footsteps, which meant that she needed to get Rachel out of there.

She gave the girl a good look and, knowing she was already covered in the diva's blood, she grabbed the girl and started lifting her to her feet. Santana wasn't sure what happened next, but the wind got absolutely knocked out of her and she found herself a few feet away from Rachel, who was on one knee, breathing heavily and holding her stomach again, seemingly in a terrible amount of pain. "Leave!" the girl hoarsely forced out, eyes wet with fresh tears.

"Rachel, stop being…" Santana started, but the loud crack of branches and the rustle of bushed brought their attention to a spot across the sitting area where a pretty big motherfucking wolf was, all hunched and predatory looking. Panic surging through her veins, she lunged forward to grab the diva, only to once again be thrown backward. The second time actually hurt, though, and coincided with a loud, rumbling growl from the approaching wolf.

"Santana, please leave, please please just go! Please!" Rachel's pleads were frantic, and her head fucking hurt from Berry somehow tossing her a few feet. She wasn't a stranger to wrestling and roughhousing and shit, but that was more than Puck had done to her.

By the time she got back to her feet, the wolf was growling and stalking past Rachel toward her, the diva's complete attention still locked on her, still pleading for Santana to leave. Three things happened next that she was sure she'd never forget. Santana felt her heart clench so hard that she thought she was having a heart-attack, it literally hurt to consider what few options she had; it was heartbreaking to find Rachel, and have the girl fight her help to the bitter end. Next, her focus and composure shattered, her body descending into her own sobs and tears, because she was damn sure that it was the last time she'd ever see Rachel, and she'd failed her. She had no weapons other than her own tired body, and she was stuck there with Rachel just as helpless as before. And that hurt almost more than anything.

Almost as much as running home while her friend lay dying in her favourite nature trail, at the mercy of a bloodthirsty wolf. Santana made it about a mile before she had to stop, her body expelling everything in a vain attempt of getting rid of her shame and guilt. It wasn't often in her life that she could ever consider herself a coward, but this would go down as her biggest one yet. Rachel had needed her, and she ran. She went back on her word. She was despicable.

When she did get home, Santana quickly locked the doors, rinsed her mouth out, and promptly hid away in bed, wanting desperately to believe if she fell asleep, it'd all be revealed as a dream when she woke. It needed to be a dream.

* * *

It was with great thanks that Santana was startled awake from her dream, its contents not at all pleasant. Rubbing her eyes, she fought away the lingering fear and groggily turned toward her clock, noticing she'd been asleep for a mere hour and twenty minutes. It was a little past midnight either way, so she was pretty sure it'd be a long night, especially when her hand rested against her stomach, only for it to come in contact with dried blood.

Santana cringed, her body shuddering in revolt as the reality of the evening set in again, but a tapping at her window once again drew her focus, much like it drew her out of her troubled slumber. Slowly, she rolled out of her bed, half covering herself in her comforter, wanting to retain the warmth even if sleep didn't seem like an acceptable option right then, or at least one that she deserved. The tapping persisted as she brought her sluggish body across her room to the window, noticing a branch was hitting it. And sure, she wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of sleeping at the moment, but like hell if she was going to put up with that branch for the rest of the school year, tapping away at her window on windy days. Fuck that.

It only took a few seconds to reach the window, Santana flinging the window open with one hand and grabbing the branch with the other. Except, the branch was pretty much way too easy to move around, making it difficult to just apply leverage and snap it off. After two or three tries she looked over to the tree, entirely disgruntled, and saw Rachel perched in it, holding the other end.

A scream erupted from her throat and out her mouth as she staggered back in shock, overwhelmingly freaked the fuck out and more than a little scared. "Fucking Christ, Berry! Are you trying to kill me?! You scared the shit out of me!" She yelled, entirely pissed off over the prank until she realized that it totally wasn't a prank. And that Rachel was still covered in blood. "Wait…WAIT!" she called out as she rushed back to the window, already seeing Rachel scaling down the tree. "Go to my front door!" she called out, but the girl looked to be heading away from the house, not towards it.

Santana allowed herself a frustrated growl and quickly grabbed the keys on her desk before leaping out of her window, her hands catching a hold onto the same, familiar branch she always used whenever she'd sneak out. Within seconds she'd dropped to the ground in a roll and jogged after the limping diva. She didn't even call out after her that time, knowing the girl wasn't listening, so instead she just caught up to her enough to grab one of Berry's hands, and then stood still.

Rachel turned back to face her, looking remorseful and pale and still horrendously hurt. It was nice to see the makeshift bandages still on her; hell, it was nice to see the girl not only alive, but mobile. It was enough of a sign, at least to Santana, that she had a second chance to help the girl out. To make up for her cowardice. "Let me clean you up at least." She requested quietly yet insistently, even if it was a lie. There was no way she would let Berry out of her sight again, not until she was good and healed up.

The diva took a moment to consider the idea before taking a shaky step toward her, Santana quickly moving to the girl's side and offering her body as a support, which Rachel thankfully took. She locked the door behind them once inside and ushered the girl into her main floor washroom, sitting Rachel on the toilet for the time being.

_Times like these, I'm glad my dad's a doctor…_ she mused, pulling her father's first aid kit out from the cabinet, grabbing as many butterfly stitches as she could find when she opened it. Using scissors, she cut Rachel's clothes off, surprised at how the material only clung to wounds in a few spots. _Could have sworn she was hurt worse than this…but…I mean, I saw what I saw…_

It was enough to give her relief that Berry wasn't going to bleed out on her, but the girl was still seriously wounded, and she couldn't imagine walking around with her whole body just cut up like that. "You looked a lot worse at the park…" she mumbled as she finished checking the diva for wounds, knowing she'd probably need all of the stitches.

"I wasn't…" Rachel whispered, not looking or sounding entirely sincere, but it was probably just the pain and nerves getting to her. The evidence was right in front of her, so the girl must not have been as brutalized as she remembered. _Maybe my mind was just going crazy with panic, and…but fuck, that stomach wound was a lot bigger than this, wasn't it? I mean, it was gaping!...Wasn't it?_

As patiently as she could manage, she cleaned the girl up with a sponge, warm water, and some alcohol wipes. Santana had never been a pro at first aid, and she certainly wasn't thinking all that straight given the circumstances; still, Rachel let her do what she wanted, and she was as gentle as she could manage, given her nerves. It was surprising to not hear a single peep out of the diva during the cleaning and bandaging process, but the occasional glance at the girl's face let her know that Rachel was both awake and alert to every action.

A dark thought crossed her mind as she wondered about their pseudo-conversation on the nature trail; Rachel seemed much too quiet and submissive to let someone she wasn't really even friends with see her and clean her entire body. _She said the hospital wasn't safe…does…are her dads, like, torture porn freaks? Do they hurt Rachel and then clean her up so that no one can tell? Is that why she always wore those sweaters, or leggings some days during heat-waves? I swear, if they hurt her, I'll…_

"Santana, I think you've wrung out the sponge enough." Rachel noted meekly, bringing her away from her thoughts, returning her to reality. One where Rachel needed her.

Sheepishly, she dropped the item and got to her feet from where she was kneeling by the diva's legs. "I'm gonna get you some clothes, okay? And…and maybe after, you can help me understand…this…" Santana noted uncertainly as she gestured to Rachel's body. "…Because you, least of all…oh fuck, you must be in crazy pain, I'll get you some painkillers, I'll…"

"Thank you." The diva said sadly as Santana quickly laid out a few of the strongest pills she had before darting out the room and upstairs to grab the girl some clothes. Her hands found purchase on a cheerios hoodie and some corresponding sweat pants before migrating a few drawers up for some underwear and one of her comfiest sleep shirts. After what was likely a hellacious night, Santana wanted the girl to just be as comfy as she could be, given all the ridiculous wounds she'd suffered. It still hurt to refrain from taking her to the hospital, but she trusted the diva and took her at her word that it wouldn't be safe for her. Santana wasn't about to toy with the girl's safety in any way, especially since the bleeding was under control.

It barely seemed like she'd been away for a second when she found herself back at the door frame of the bathroom, Rachel still on the toilet, looking entirely antsy. She handed the girl the pile of clothes, offering her a small smile because she was happy to see the girl had down the painkillers; Rachel deserved to have a few hours free of pain, Santana figured.

"Do you want some food? I don't have much vegan stuff, but I have some fruit and veggies." She noted, drawing the exact opposite response than she expected, Rachel keeling forward, the sound of a sob and the sight of fresh tears stabbing through the cheerleader's heart. "Christ, I'm sorry, I…I'm just not big on soy or whatever, but I'll get some, alright? I get groceries on Sunday, I can pick up more tomorrow, okay?"

Rachel only shook her head, a pained frown marring her face. "I can't be vegan anymore." The girl moaned, and while it didn't make any sense, she decided to just roll with it.

"Okay, okay. I…I'll think of something, okay? Right now we should get you changed, you must be freezing." Santana tried to will her voice to be as soothing and soft as possible, but it was a bit off; Rachel just breaking down on her brought back flashes from the trail, and that had her shaking a little bit from worry and nerves again.

The only response was a slight nod, and the seven or eight minutes that followed was pure torture, knowing each movement was painful, not only physically but emotionally for the girl. It just seemed so unfair and illogical; Rachel was pretty much the second nicest person at school, maybe in Lima. It didn't make sense that anyone would hurt her so badly and clearly with malicious intent.

Eventually, she gingerly led the girl out of the bathroom, Rachel halting their progress in the middle of the hall as the diva looked back toward the front door. "Santana…thank you for your hospitality but…this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here." Berry's voice was soft and saturated with all kinds of misery, and it felt horrible that the diva thought it was a mistake to go to her. It wasn't the biggest surprise, because most saw her as a heartless bitch, and she didn't help that perception any by acting like one at school. Santana was fully aware that she probably would have been Berry's last choice, but she still wasn't about to let that sway her into letting Rachel go.

"Just stay a little longer…please?" Santana pleaded quietly, not even needing to act like she was worried and a bit needy because fuck, she'd had a crazy night and she just wanted for it to have a happy ending. Or, at least, something happier than Rachel leaving to potentially get hurt again. "You can totally just…keep everything to yourself, I won't press or whatever. I just need you to stay for a while, okay?" Sure, it was a bit over the top, but she knew it'd get the girl's attention and maybe get her to reconsider.

Rachel was looking at her like she'd grown a second and third head, but the girl's scrutiny stopped mattering when she nodded her head and let Santana lead her into the living room. Gently, she brought the diva to her couch, propping her head on a pillow and covering her with her favourite blanket; it wasn't the perfect place to rest, but it was what was available, given that the bedrooms were all on the second floor.

Once she had Rachel settled in, she plopped down beside her and turned the TV on, nervously flicking through the channels. It wasn't that Berry inherently made her nervous, she was just worried that the girl would want to leave or try to leave, and that she'd never see her again. It was strange how a little perspective got her to realize that if Rachel disappeared, she'd damn well miss her.

"Stop." Rachel called out weakly, forcing Santana to actually pay attention to what channels she was flipping between.

She gave a shrug and got comfortable, more than willing to watch some Buffy reruns. "Didn't take you for someone with good taste, Rachel." Santana let herself smile a bit at being able to tease the girl again, like old times. It was a nice feeling.

The predictable indignant huff from the diva only lifted her spirits higher. "I'll have you know that I have a diverse taste in both television and film, and that I don't just watch Disney, musicals and classic films, Santana."

"So why Buffy?" she asked, wanting to hear the diva's reason for watching some dramatic, campy supernatural stories. It just didn't see Berry's style.

"Because…" Rachel started, her voice suddenly cracking from nervousness. "Because I like shows where even the things that people deem evil can still hold onto some semblance of humanity."

The answer was a bit unexpected, but understandable. Berry had always been a little more mature than the rest of the gleeks in some ways, and despite her fairy-tale ambitions and romantic aspirations, the girl was very aware that the world just wasn't simple. "Outside of McKinley, the world's a lot more grey than black or white." She mumbled, earning a small nod from the diva, the girl's blanketed toes wiggling a bit against Santana's thighs. She wasn't sure what Berry was doing, but she smiled anyway, happy to see the girl already drawn into the show.

Santana knew she wouldn't be getting much of any sleep that night, and Rachel didn't seem tired at all, so she decided a Buffy marathon was an alright idea. It was in the middle of the third episode that she dared to speak again, needing some answers, though knowing her questions could scare the girl off. It was a toss-up, and she favoured taking a risk.

"Are you going back to school?" She asked quietly during a commercial break, the sound of a burger king advertisement the only other noise filling the room. Santana knew that the girl needed time to recover, but she was back, and safe, and the cheerleader wanted to see the girl perform in glee again.

"It's too dangerous." The diva mumbled sadly, shaking her head as she kept her focus on the screen. Berry's words only brought back memories of that wolf, of seeing Rachel brutalized, and she couldn't fight the chill than ran down her spine from it all.

"I know we haven't been friends, exactly, but…I'll keep you safe." She noted, trying not to sound freaked out about whatever danger Rachel was in. It didn't matter anymore, it was irrelevant, because she'd make sure no one hurt the diva. "I'll make sure of it, and I'm sure Britt and Quinn and…"

"Santana…" Rachel's strained voice stilled the words in her throat, forcing her gaze back to the small girl nestled almost completely underneath the blanket. "It wouldn't be safe for the rest of the students."

Santana looked hard at the girl, as if staring would reveal answers to the plethora of questions floating in her mind. "I don't understand."

"It's complicated. I'm…" Rachel started, letting out a sad sigh as she closed her eyes and finally turned her head to face Santana. "I'm being hunted. If…If I go to school, it'll put other people in danger, and I can't. I can't. No one can know I'm here, that I'm alive."

She understood the words coming out of Rachel's mouth, it wasn't like the girl was being unnecessarily verbose, but the message just didn't make any sense. "I don't get it, why would anyone hunt YOU? I mean…you're you, you're not some serial killer or anything."

"Apparently some people are mad that I exist, for reasons I have yet to be told." Rachel mumbled, and that only compounded the ridiculousness of it all, because clearly Berry wasn't lying, so there actually WERE people out there trying to take her out. It made no sense!

Santana grabbed one of her throw pillows, needing to just clutch and knead at something, and her stress-ball was nowhere in sight. "That's so…so STUPID! I mean, you can be annoying at times, you're overbearing, self-centred, a little manipulative, and you may have the fashion sense of a librarian with Benjamin Button syndrome, but that's no fucking reason! You're vegan, you wouldn't hurt a fly…outside of Britt, you're the nicest, sweetest person at school." She ranted, Rachel's wide-eyed gaze thankfully softening after the compliments, because she didn't want the girl to think she thought badly of her or anything. She was annoying, but it didn't take away from the fact that Berry was pretty damn nice and ridiculously patient sometimes. She'd have to be to give her and Quinn second and third and fourth chances.

"It's not that, okay? Just…can we change the topic? The commercial break's nearly over." Rachel asked, biting lightly on her slightly swollen lip. The fact that Berry was asking her to be quiet so they could keep watching the show instead of just wanting to leave was a sign that maybe the girl would stick around. She wanted to ask about the people chasing her, she wanted to know how in the fuck they had wolves as attack dogs, and how Rachel managed to escape. At the same time, she knew that those questions were probably best kept for another day.

Santana nodded and patted the girl's blanket-covered feet. "Alright. But I'm starting to get tired, so after this one or the next one, I'm heading to bed, and so are you, okay?" she asked, drawing a reluctant nod from the diva. "You can take one of the guest bedrooms. They're nice, and you can rest better in there than here."

Once again, Santana felt the girl's feet lightly tapping against her thigh. "I don't want to impose, and your parents will ask questions, and…"

"My papi hasn't been home for more than a few straight hours in months. He usually just sleeps at the hospital, and if he managed to see you when he came home, he'd probably leave even faster." Santana said, feeling a pang of guilt for talking about her father that way, but it wasn't like she was exaggerating or lying. He never wanted to be home, not since she came out to him early that summer.

"What about your mom?" Rachel asked, and even after so many years, she still couldn't help but flinch at the mention of the woman.

"The only person who's going to be home regularly is me, so don't worry about it." She stated, trying not to sound defensive, but that topic always got her emotional, and it wasn't the kind that she liked confronting or dealing with.

Rachel nodded silently as the show returned from its break. The both of them just remained where they were, Rachel's head once again turned to face the screen while Santana idly rubbed the girl's feet. A few commercial breaks later, she failed to stifle a yawn, and that was apparently all the ice-breaker Berry needed.

"Do you have an attic or a crawlspace? Somewhere in the basement?" The girl asked, the request entirely catching Santana off guard. Sure, Berry hadn't seen how awesome the guest room was, but she couldn't imagine any reason why the girl would pass it up in favour of some dark, shitty room.

"We have an attic, but it's mostly just used for storage. Lots of boxes in there, not real comfortable." She noted hesitantly, really hoping that the girl wasn't going to take that option. Her hopes were dashed when the girl shot her a sad smile.

"I'll stay there. Someone might have seen me come here, and it'll be easier to hide away if they come and check." The girl noted nervously, and Santana was sure that Berry was shaking. She could feel the girl's feet again, but they weren't tapping her so much as colliding intermittently.

Santana got up off the couch and knelt over at Rachel's side, knowing that even if the girl couldn't meet her gaze, it wasn't necessary. Berry was terrified, and at least at that moment, more than anything, she wanted to change that. "I'll keep you safe. For as long as you need, okay? You're safe here." She whispered, tucking some of the girl's matted hair behind her ear and out of her face. "No one's going to look for you here."

Rachel smiled an actual, real smile, and it felt kind of great. Mostly because, even if just by a little bit, she helped push that fear away. Knowing she was much too tired to keep watching Buffy, Santana switched the television off and quickly planned out what she needed to do.

Wordlessly, she placed a hand on the girl's back and gently helped Rachel sit up, allowing her to move the blanket around enough to wrap the diva up while keeping the girl's arms free. Berry's eyes never left her as she continued gingerly moving the diva around, who was thankfully not questioning her like she'd expected. When she was happy with her prep, she scooped her arms under Rachel and lifted her up bridal style, Berry's arms quickly wrapping around Santana's neck for support.

They were both silent as Santana ascended to the second floor and, as gracefully as she could manage, opened the door to the attic and rested Rachel down onto a box. "I'll be right back, I promise." She noted hastily, before darting out of the dark, dusty room and into the nearby guest room. As quickly as she could manage, and with strength that she knew was mostly propelled by the urgency of the matter, she hauled the mattress off of the box-spring and started pulling it out of the room and down the hall. It was really fucking heavy and unwieldy, and perhaps she swore loudly a few times when it toppled against the wall and refused to budge an inch. And maybe it took her five or ten minutes to get it where she wanted it.

Eventually, she pushed the mattress into the attic and quickly stacked and rearranged boxes to make just enough room for it. If Rachel insisted on hiding away for her sake, she'd make sure the girl would be as comfortable as possible. Once again she dashed out of the attic and into her own room that time, grabbing her spare comforter, some sheets, pillows, and all of the stuffed animals she and Britt had accumulated over the years. Santana could only be thankful that Britt had insisted the plushies all be together at Santana's, having said they were family and needed to have a home; she just hoped that it could maybe cheer up the wounded girl enough to give her even a decent sleep.

Rachel's amused giggle when she walked into the attic with armfuls of stuffed animals was worth the price of admission, and within a minute, she had the girl's bed all set up. She sent the diva a goofy smile, gesturing to the very populated bed. "Your kingdom awaits you, Rachel."

The girl shook her head, unable to suppress a grin. "Well, it would be poor form to keep my people waiting, wouldn't it?" Rachel asked, this time reaching her arms out in a silent request for Santana's help. Help with she was happy to give, gently getting Berry to her feet, scooping her up and laying her down onto the mattress. Rachel didn't seem to be in much pain as she pulled the blankets up over her with one hand, hugging a large elephant plushie with the other. Sure, Santana knew the girl was pretty comfy in the bed, but it didn't change the damage she'd endured.

Feeling decidedly maternal for one of the few times in her life, she bent down and lightly kissed the diva's forehead. "I'll be in the second room on your right, okay chiclet? Sleep tight."

With the blankets nearly covering Rachel's face, she could only see the girl's eyes widen at the gesture, but they were big, brown and soft and maybe she'd won some points with that. And maybe Rachel felt a little more secure. And as Santana walked sleepily to her bedroom, that's all she really had the energy to hope for.

* * *

Sunday came and went quietly for Rachel. Since they'd gotten to bed so early in the morning, Santana slept most of the day anyway, only managing a meal and a few hours for homework and idle chitchat before succumbing to sleep to ensure she'd be able to get up bright and early Monday morning. The cheerleader had forced her to eat, and had made a delectable looking dish that depressingly didn't taste quite as well as she knew it should have. So Sunday had been quiet, which Rachel generally approved of, because her newest friend of sorts thankfully didn't ask any real questions. And since Rachel changed her own bandages while Santana was busy, the cheerleader didn't check to see how she was healing. At least, she agreed not to check after about a thirty minute argument, but the diva had expected that much from how committed the girl was to making sure she was comfortable and healthy and safe.

Hidden away in the attic that was thankfully windowless, she more or less slept and rested for the daylight hours, explaining it away that if the people hunting her came around, it would be at night, and she wanted to be as prepared as possible. Which, thankfully, Santana bought. Rachel only once heard heavier footsteps throughout the house, which must have been Santana's father; much like the girl had noted, the man was only home for a few minutes before leaving. Which left the two of them alone, something she found both relieving and a little sad. Being alone might not cause loneliness, but she couldn't imagine being alone at home was good for Santana.

It was kind of sweet, if she were to be honest, that the girl had been so accommodating. When she'd encountered Santana at the park, it was all she could do to just restrain herself. Even that had slipped in the end, and had that wolf not scared the girl away, she was sure something horrible would have happened. And even afterward, when she went to see if Santana made it home safely and waffled on asking for the girl's help, it had been a struggle to go along with it all. But she was glad she had, because for a girl who had seemed to truly dislike her throughout most of her years at school, Santana had really made an effort in caring for her. Giving her space and privacy, conceding to her wish to set up in the attic, feeding her, patching her up, it was all kind of sweet how flustered and determined the girl was to make her home a safe place for Rachel. And the cheerleader hauling a whole mattress into the attic, along with sheets and a comforter and pillows and a kingdom of stuffed animals was something she still had a hard time wrapping her head around. _Especially the kiss and the…the nickname…'chiclet'? That was new…and for the first time ever, it was kind of positive, or at least neutral, right?_

All of that at least gave Rachel something to think about, which managed to keep her mind off of her hunger, and the fact that she was feeling weaker by the day. It was easier to ignore when she was sitting in bed with a book in hand, or just thinking about what possible future she had, what regrets she had, and what she needed to do about Santana. It was all such a mess still, and she wasn't even sure where to start planning. _I wish I could just go back in time and not go to that party…I wish I hadn't stopped on my way home to get snacks, and…and I wish that THING hadn't hurt me…_ Rachel thought to herself, unable to repress a sigh at how depressing it all was. There was so much trouble bearing down on her, and she didn't know why. She just wanted it to be gone, or for it all to be over with, and for her to have her Broadway dreams back. _Or my family…I miss them so much, but I know if I tried to visit, they could get hurt and…yet, here I am, putting Santana in danger. Sure, she insisted, but she could DIE. But they haven't found me yet so maybe I'm safe here…at least, until I tell her…_

It was something of a perfect hiding place; given their previous relationship at school, Rachel was pretty sure no one would look for her there. Though, despite how enjoyable the cheerleader's hospitality had been, she knew that she couldn't keep the truth from Santana for much longer. So she slept most of Monday , deciding it was better than being awake and just waiting; it wasn't as if she was tired enough to be truly sleepy, but it was wasteful and tiring being awake when she didn't have to be.

It was around seven in the evening when Rachel woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut. Her ears perked up as she slid out of bed and opened the door, trying to discern who it was. When Santana broke out into song a few seconds later, well, it was relieving; it was good to know the girl was home, and that she was in a good enough mood to be singing for no apparent reason other than simply being happy. Rachel looked back at the alarm clock in her makeshift room and saw she still had about forty five minutes left until she felt truly safe enough to go downstairs. The sun was already setting, but she wanted to play it safe, just in case.

So she sat there, reading an old encyclopedia from Santana's room while she waited, though the suspicious lack of movement and sound downstairs worried her. She couldn't hear the television or the radio or anything, and it had her a little antsy that maybe Santana was being held hostage or something. Sure, it was a long-shot, but it was possible, and it had her quickly shutting the book and tiptoeing down the stairs when the clock hit seven forty eight. Quietly, she moved through the hall and into the kitchen, pausing momentarily at the door frame that led into the living room. Taking a steadying breath, she peeked her head around the corner.

And found Santana zonked out on the couch, her headphones still on and her ipod resting on her chest, the softest of snores emanating from the girl's mouth. She couldn't suppress a giggle at how over-dramatic her thoughts had been, realizing that she should have remembered that Santana had morning and evening Cheerio practices, and that napping for a bit simply made sense.

Though apparently Santana was a light sleeper, Rachel's barely restrained amusement fluttering the tired girl's eyes open into a squint as she scanned the room, pouting with confusion until her eyes met Rachel's. "Oh, hey. I…I thought you were out or something…I guess I got a bit distracted." The girl noted sleepily, yawning and stretching afterward as she sat up and removed her headphones.

"It's okay, I know how comfy that couch can be." Rachel's words seemed to reassure Santana, who looked fondly down at the furniture and patted it; it was still a little weird to think Santana wanted to spend time with her, and wanted her to sit close, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything. Besides, as her guest, it was only polite.

Rachel was just getting comfy against the armrest when Santana let out another yawn and pulled out her phone. "I'm gonna order in tonight. Is there anything you have a craving for?"

She just winced at those words, knowing that yes, she did have a craving, but it wasn't entirely appropriate or something she wished to indulge in. "Not particularly, no."

Santana simply shrugged and wiped at her eyes as she slumped forward a bit. "They…two more kids from school went missing." The cheerleader mumbled sadly, her words causing Rachel's eyes to bulge. _More? TWO more like me? What the heck…maybe that's why I haven't had many pursuers, if they're busy chasing the others…I..._ "It's no one we know, I don't think, but it's still kind of freaky. I mean, how do five kids go missing?"

"Five?!" Rachel blurted out, only just having attempted to get used to the idea that there were two others like her. Four others just seemed a little too much to be a coincidence. "Oh no…I hope they're alright, but…holy moly."

Santana gave her a long look, her dark brown eyes studying Rachel's own rich mocha pair. "Do you know what's happening?" The question was simple, a yes or no answer that she could likely brush off, given how nice Santana had been about giving her space. Still, she knew the truth would need to be told soon enough, and it was probably a good enough time for it. She knew it'd hurt to get too close to anyone, so honesty would keep what was left of her heart safe when she would eventually be told to go her own way. Rachel gave the girl a simple nod in answer.

Santana slowly got up off the couch and knelt in front of where she was sitting, looking up at her with fear and defiance dancing in her eyes. "Are we being hunted too?" Santana's voice was softer than she could have ever imagined as it delivered the question, one that she had to hesitate to answer. In truth, her incident seemed random, but if five from McKinley had been taken, then that was a pattern, and that couldn't be ignored. Seeing the cheerleader desperate for an answer, she bit her lip and nodded.

"You probably are now, I think. Though I can't imagine everyone's survived so far like I have." She answered, her words causing Santana to go rigid in front of her, the girl's jaw set and clenched . The cheerleader took a few moments to digest that, her face a evolving conflict of worry, determination, and confusion, the last of which seemed to win out as Santana gazed back up at her.

"They haven't found any bodies, though." The girl noted as quiet as a mouse, her face contorted with skepticism and perhaps a little hope. Hope that Rachel desperately didn't wish to dash, but she had to tell the truth. She HAD to.

Santana's face fell a little when Rachel let out a sad sigh a bowed her head, her messy bangs keeping either from making eye contact. It was just too hard for her at the moment. "I don't know if it's the same for all cases, but…I'm pretty certain there wouldn't be a body to recover if they didn't want there to be."

"Fuck!" Santana yelled out, quickly pouncing to her feet and pacing around the living room anxiously. She averted her gaze from the cheerleader's worried face and tried to focus on the situation at hand. _Clearly, I'm…I'm just causing her to worry, I'm causing her trouble…_

"If you want, I'll leave. It's okay." She called out, hoping that would appease Santana enough to get her to stop panicking. She knew if she left the girl's home, Santana would most likely be safe from danger. It would be best for everyone.

Rachel had expected some resistance, more or less along the same lines as they'd been encountering since she was taken in. She didn't expect Santana to furiously march over to her and lean into her personal space, the cheerleader's arms blocking her in at both sides as they clutched to top edge of the couch. "It's NOT okay, Berry! I might not like you ninety percent of the time, but you're family! You're staying, period." The girl growled out, Santana's face a mere inch or so from her own. Never before had the girl tried to intimidate her with anything but yelling and threats before, but she could easily admit that the cheerleader was quite frightening when she wanted to be.

Still, she knew she had to do the right thing for the both of them. "Me staying here puts YOU in danger. You could get hurt too, Santana, and you don't need the stress."

The growl Santana let out at that was more than a little unnerving, and for a moment had Rachel wondering exactly which out of the two of them was the beast. "Neither of us are gonna get hurt." The cheerleader grit out before unleashing a long exhaled breath and plopping down beside her, clearly taking a few seconds to calm herself down. Rachel was surprised when she felt Santana's hand prodding her own open, the girl's fingers smoothly lacing with hers and squeezing gently. It was a simple gesture, but an unexpected one, given the girl's usual tendency to withhold affection to anyone whose name wasn't Brittany Susan Pierce. "I just need to know how to keep us both safe, chiclet, okay? Just…just tell me what's going on."

It was one of those refreshing moments where Rachel realized she still had something of her old self left inside of her, as her heart overturned her previous decision. She just couldn't help it; the hand holding, the unyielding support, the soft, tender tone of her voice. It was too hard to say no, and she didn't want to see the dejected look she was increasingly sure would mar Santana's features if she did.

So she stood and gently unlatched her hand from Santana's, giving her a reassuring smile as she did so in hopes to keep the girl from being alarmed. "I'm going to say some things and…and I'll probably sound really stupid or ridiculous or unbelievable, or maybe like some prank...so if you ever just want me to leave, tell me. I'll go immediately, okay?" she asked, drawing a hesitant nod from the clearly concerned girl in front of her. She took a sigh to steady her breath, knowing it'd be the first time she would verbalize her experience. "I went to the party, but it wasn't fun at all, and some Carmel students kept harassing me and abusing me with slurs and spilled their drinks on me not so accidentally. It wasn't fun. So I left, deciding to get some snacks before heading home to watch Funny Girl."

Rachel smiled at the memory of the relief that film had brought her once, how it was always able to cheer her up no matter how miserable of a day she'd endured. She'd been excited to go home, to eat some chips and dip while watching Fanny Brice and Arnstein do their glorious thing. "I left the store with some food, but…I must not have been paying attention on the way back to my car, because I was ambushed by this terribly strong man, and thrown into his van. He…he attacked me."

Santana's face darkened at those words, the girl's hands kneading the couch cushions so roughly that Rachel feared they'd tear, and it really was a lovely couch. She knew that Santana was thinking of something else, something also malicious and horrible, but she promised the truth. "Not…it wasn't sexual. He was hungry. Starving, I suppose."

Rachel watched as Santana's expression went blank, the girl slumping backward against the comfy couch. "He…wait, are you…are you saying some pothead mugged you for some munchies?" The cheerleader asked quizzically, clearly having trouble understanding what the hell to do with the information Rachel had relayed to her. _In hindsight, I probably could have been clearer…_

"No, he…well, he bit my neck and then he drained me of blood. I…I can't remember the whole struggle because I fainted, but... but he cut open his wrist and he tried to get me to drink too. I tried not to, I didn't want to but I was weak, and…I threw a lot of it up but some got in. " Rachel stated quietly, while Santana just sat there with an unreadable expression, her head cocked to the side ever so slightly as she took in every one of the diva's words. At least, Rachel hoped the girl was. "He kicked me out of the van after, and brought me to some forested area by the store, and basically just threw me into a ditch. When I woke up, I was in agony. For hours, I cried out, my body feeling like it was on fire. It was inescapable for so long, and when it finally stopped hurting enough for me to move, I made it back to my car and drove to the old bridge down on Wareham road. It was getting light out, and my instincts kept telling me to find somewhere dark to hide for the rest of…"

Her rambling words caught in her throat as Santana abruptly stood and grabbed her bag. Rachel took in the girl's wide eyes and the fear pooling in them, only made more obvious by the slight quiver in the cheerleader's lower lip. Santana was scared, and even though she hadn't dared to hope, it still felt awful that it was going to end this way. _This is it then…_

"I need to think." The girl breathed out as she fumbled for her car keys, eventually grabbing them and clutching them with white knuckles.

"I'll leave, Santana… it's alright. Just please don't tell anyone, okay?" She answered quickly, knowing that somewhere in her rant, Santana found something believable, and was freaking out over that. It had taken her days to digest that the world was very different than how she thought it was, and knew that the girl really didn't need that kind of stress on her mind, especially with cheerleading and school and everything.

She watched Santana stiffen a little before shaking her head furiously. "No, no fucking way. You're not leaving." Santana spoke, her voice strained and flat as she seemed to struggle getting mere words out. "Even if I'm totes going out of my damn mind right now, you're not leaving. At least, not right now. Just…fuck, just go downstairs, alright? I'll be back in a bit."

Rachel wasn't exactly sure what there was to think about, but she went along with the request anyway, deciding that it was only fair, given what she'd thrust upon Santana. Quietly, she walked out of the living room and found the entrance to the basement, taking the winding stairwell to the bottom. She flicked on the light expecting another storage area, but instead found a workout area with a mat, heavy bag and equipment, a couch with a large television nearby, as well as a small bar nestled in the corner along with a wine cabinet. There was another door on the other end of the room, which probably led to a small storage area, but all in all, the room was quite nice. The very definition of a stereotypical recreation room, if she had to define it.

Not that she felt in the mood for any of that. Not with Santana banishing her to the basement and running off to 'think'. She trusted the girl to not tell anyone about her secret, surprisingly, but it still had her wishing that she wasn't stuck in her current predicament. That she was normal again, and got to know Santana for real, while her own blood pumped in her veins. Feeling more than a little bit crestfallen, she made her way over to the bar and rested her head against the counter, thinking she'd rather endure twenty slushies a day than deal with being a vampire.

* * *

**A/N: I kind of felt in the mood for something potentially spooky/supernatural/halloween-themed, and this kind of happened. Well, it was outlined a long time ago (and there's certainly more content outlined, but I found this to be a nice ending point for the first chapter), but I only recently got around to toiling away on it to any significant degree.**

**This will just be a minor project of mine, I've been a busy bee with my schoolwork lately so I'm hoping to grab some time tonight to push out a chapter of Mirrorball. Or, barring the failure of that, I'll post a chapter of Feathers to make up for it. :P Either way, there'll be this and something else soonish**

**I won't be following any set lore standard, so if you're expecting me to hold to Buffy vampire lore, you'll be a little disappointed. I'll be mixing and matching between Buffy and Vampire: The Requiem for that, and there will be some WoD and Supernatural influences in here as well as a few original bits. But mostly the duo of Buffy and White Wolf's stuff will be influencing the lore here. **

**Anywho, thanks so much for reading, and for being super patient with me. These past two months have been hell for me, and the rest of the semester isn't looking too bright either. I blame 4****th**** year university course workloads. :P**

**Have a wonderful weekend!**


	2. Chapter 2

Santana's mind was absolutely fucked. As she sat in the Wal-Mart parking lot, she couldn't help but think that Rachel's story made no sense, yet managed to perfectly explain everything. Vampires weren't real, they just weren't, and yet, she'd spent what little time they enjoyed that evening trying to see how Rachel was healing, and she seemed perfectly fine. Which made no sense, unless you considered the possibility of fucking vampire healing. The girl was perfectly mobile, never winced or grimaced, and didn't look dazed or like she was on any meds, and those injuries should have taken weeks to heal. So there was that. And then there was Rachel's general sadness and disinterest in the vegan food she'd bought, which made zero sense due to the girl's usual pattern of gushing about how delicious soy shit and vegetables were during lunch over the past years. Which made no sense, unless you considered the possibility of her having weird vampire taste buds that only crave fucking blood! So that was a thing too.

But vampires? Really? Santana knew she was never the luckiest girl in the world, but she really had always wanted to believe those fuckers were as fake as Quinn's nose, because those things had terrified her as a kid. She'd already been scared shitless of the dark when she was young, and she had just begun watching scary undead-themed horror movies a little before her mother had passed away. For years, she couldn't shake the fear of her mother coming back to eat her or whatever, and it all kind of tainted her ability to separate that fantasy from reality until she was twelve or so. Now, Rachel Berry was insinuating she was a damn vampire; sure, the diva didn't say it specifically, but it was clear and it had her freaking out. And not just because she could be a damn vampire, but because there were so many fucking variants in the media and literature that it seemed impossible to know what the hell constituted a vampire. _Can I trust her? Does she have a soul? Do souls even exist? Does she need to feed regularly? Only on humans, or would any blood do? Wait…is that why she kept pushing me away in the park, because she was low on blood and was trying not to feed on me? FUCK that's just another point in the 'Rachel Berry actually IS a vampire' theory…guh…fuckityfuckfuckfuckFUCK!_

It was embarrassing, but Santana was kind of scared. She'd been in fights, she'd skydived, she'd hunted, she'd rock-climbed without a harness, and she'd been shot at with live ammunition by an assault rifle-wielding Sue Sylvester. Vampires shouldn't be, like, way up there on her list of things to be terrified of, but they always had been, and this situation was making it worse. People were disappearing. Rachel was, freakishly enough, what seemed to be a vampire, and apparently there were terrible mythical things out there lurking about. Life just didn't seem nearly as safe as she once thought it was. It legit was freaking her out, and she rarely ever lost her shit, so everything was really a bit overwhelming. And she only had twenty minutes to make a decision before curfew, which only added to her stress.

She kind of wanted to just turn the key in her ignition, drive back home and tell Berry to leave. It would make things so much easier to just pretend none of the past few days had happened, that what she'd been told was some dream. Yet, the thought of Rachel walking out her front door, potentially to her doom, had her opening her car door a walking toward the store instead. Rachel, in some weird twisted way, was family. And Santana Lopez took care of her own.

So she quickly scoured the store for everything she could find that was related, which happened to be a lot thanks to the recent twilight craze. While Santana knew she'd have to do some ordering online that night, she managed to buy a few books about vampires, along with a number of DVDs of supernatural shit that had vampires in them, just as references or whatever. And, of course, snacks; she had a feeling it would be a long, long night, after all.

As she pulled back into her driveway, Santana could see the light emanating from the tiny basement windows, meaning Berry was probably still down there. Which meant she'd actually have to go inside and talk to her about everything, which had her pretty damn nervous.

Pulling out her phone, she quickly opened up a new text message to both Britt and Quinn, figuring it didn't hurt to plan ahead. _'Hey, im not feelin 2 gr8, mite miss skool tmrw'_

Satisfied with her potential out clause for if the night went so well that they researched until the next day, she got out of the car and made her way to her front door. Pushing aside her trepidation, she turned the handle and quietly slipped in, closing the door behind her as she pulled her boots off.

The buzzing of her phone gave her enough temporary relief to just try and be as cool about it all as possible. Santana unlocked her phone to find a new text from Quinn, _'Need someone to keep you company, San?'_

Despite their sometimes troubled friendship, Santana really did kind of love that about the girl; Quinn had grown up in one of the most toxic home environments that she'd ever witnessed, yet still managed to have this side to her that proved she would have been a hell of a mother to Beth. Santana was pretty sure if someone like, say Azimio was in bad shape, Q wouldn't have batted an eye, but if someone she cared for needed help, the blonde would offer it freely. She smiled at the text and tapped out a quick response. _'Thx Q, u kno I'd be up 4 sum dr quinn medicine woman, but my papi actually wants sum 1on1 fam time to fix me up since im trapped.'_

The response was surprisingly quick, her phone buzzing just as she was shoving all her purchases into a large cardboard box. _'Har har, San. So clever, as always. Well let me know. I hope he's finally decided to be a father again'_ Santana sighed at the message, knowing that she really would be kind of hyped if her papi wanted to have anything to do with her again. It'd been difficult since her mom passed, but it had been so long since he'd even smiled at her. Disapproving fathers were yet another thing she and the blonde had in common.

Santana pocketed her phone after sending off a quick thanks to Quinn, feeling as ready as she thought she'd ever be to confront the diva down in the basement. Cautiously and slowly, she made her way down into the basement, her socked feet softly padding across the floor, only briefly hastening as she passed Rachel and slipped in behind the bar. Rachel's curious eyes were on her as she placed the box on the counter and sat down. She'd thought up this whole casual approach upstairs, but her mind just wasn't having any part of it right then, and with Rachel just looking so worried, she couldn't help but feel really damn tense. And after a few seconds, it was just too much.

"You're a vampire." She rushed out, each of the three words blending into the other in a garbled mess. Yet Berry seemed to understand her perfectly, giving her a slow nod that only deepened the pit in her gut. "Okay…" she sighed, taking a moment to compose herself before she began unloading the box's contents onto the long counter; with every few seconds, it became more populated with Buffy DVDs, books on vampires, and notable vampire films.

Rachel watched on, at first curious, then entirely shocked; however, once that passed, the girl's face seemed to fall further with each and every new addition from her haul. And despite being kind of terrified of Rachel now, she did all she could think would bring even a neutral expression back to the diva's face. The small bag of vegan gummi worms impacted square in the middle of Berry's face, sending the jittery, nervous girl off balance, nearly toppling her off the stool and onto the floor. And maybe the mixture of petulant annoyance and surprise on the diva's face made Santana laugh. And maybe when Rachel realized what she'd been hit with, and there was a ghost of a smile on her face, maybe Santana felt some relief. And maybe she smiled for a second or two, because it showed that there was still at least SOME Rachel Berry across the counter from her.

She opened up her own pack of Swedish fish to snack on, knowing she'd probably have a long and potentially tense night ahead. "We've got some research to do, chiclet." She remarked as calmly as she could manage, flipping open some weird paperback encyclopedia of vampires that had been on sale. It wasn't a massive tome, but it was hefty enough that it seemed a reasonable place to start. With a pencil in hand and an extra notebook in front of her, Santana was totes prepped to figure this shit out.

"Are you being serious right now?" she heard Berry ask, and her voice was so meek and uncertain that it forced her attention away from the book. The girl looked positively baffled and wary, so she knew that she'd probably have to do some sort of talking or whatever.

"Look, I'll deny it if you tell anyone, but…I'm kind of freaking out, okay?" She noted, deciding that since Berry had been so honest with her, she could at least admit that. The soft, woeful expression on Rachel's face only pushed more words out of her throat. "But like…I mean, I read somewhere that the only time you can be brave is when you're scared, and fuck if I'm not a badass. So we're going to do this, and I'm gonna keep you safe."

At the conclusion of her sentence, Berry bolted off her stool faster than Santana thought possible, the girl stopping abruptly right in front of her, looking tremendously guilty and nervous. "Can…can I hug you?"

It really honestly sucked. Santana could see the sheer desperation in the girl's big brown eyes, Berry's needy affectionate side presented in all its glory. Not that she had any issue with affection, seeing as Britt was super affectionate, and that was cool, but Santana just didn't trust Rachel a hundred percent quite yet. And yeah, she wasn't like, a prolific hug-giver or anything, but Rachel didn't exactly have anyone else at the moment, so it kind of sucked that she couldn't help. Santana wasn't heartless or anything, after all.

"Maybe later, okay?" She asked warily, hoping that being a little gentler with it all would help, but Rachel's face still crumbled in on itself a bit, tears filling the diva's eyes. "Hey, I'll hug you later, chiclet. I just need to, like, get comfortable with all this shit first, and you have a story to finish telling me. You were hiding out under that bridge, I think?"

Rachel nodded and while Santana was sure the girl was still a bit broken up about it, Rachel always had that ability to push past the pain and compose herself. The gummi worms she was snacking on happily seemed to help too, which was pretty okay too. "After two days hiding there, I decided to go home and grab some of my things while my fathers were at work. I…I couldn't risk them being around me when I wasn't sure about my 'urges'. I was pretty sure that I couldn't just return home as normal…not with having a good idea of what happened." Rachel spoke quietly, leaning forward against the counter, one hand propping her head up as the other idly fed herself with another gummi worm. "It was a mistake. A few blocks away, after I'd gotten some essentials, I was chased from my vehicle into a park by this rather tall man. He knocked me around a little bit, and he…he told me that my birth wasn't sanctioned, that it wasn't my sire's right to give me 'the embrace'."

Santana couldn't help but scoff, because fuck; who thought that vampires would have, like ethics and regulations and shit? "I didn't think vampires would need to ask permission…I mean…who the hell would they ask?" It was a question that Rachel clearly had no answer to, given the look of frustration written on the ever expressive diva's face.

"It certainly confused me. He wanted to take me to some 'prince' for sentencing, but he seemed to take a fair amount of pleasure doling out whatever twisted form of justice he held himself to. It…it didn't seem fair, and it was scary, Santana…I could see the damage he was doing to me, I could see my body gushing with blood, and it was…it was horrendously agonizing, but it didn't hurt nearly so much as I expected. But...I suppose I'd never been hurt so badly before, so perhaps there's a limit to the pain one can feel, or maybe the damage made me delirious." Rachel rambled, the pained glint in her eyes making Santana's hand shake with rage. Berry was right, it wasn't fair. The girl didn't deserve to be hurt, and all Santana wanted to do was hunt the motherfucker down and tear him apart. "I think that I just don't feel as much now, and that's scary. I was screaming from the pain, but I think the normal reaction would be to faint from the blood loss or pain, but I was… rather clear-headed. And it was terrifying…if not for something scaring him off for a few minutes, I'm sure I would have met my end in that park. I managed to elude him for a few days, until the day you found me, where he…he picked up where he left off."

Santana recalled how Rachel looked that night, all bloody and torn and mangled limbs. It was a sight she hoped to never witness again in her lifetime. Not just because it was hard to experience, but also because it would mean the diva across from her would have suffered again, and that simply wasn't okay. As far as she was concerned, if Rachel had done anything to deserve some weird karma event, being turned into a vampire of all things, the brutality Berry had endured had put her in line for something really good. So bad shit? Wasn't gonna happen again.

"I had been hiding out in that nature trail for a few days, trying to figure out what to do, but my brain was a little fuzzy, and I was mostly in a state of continual panic. When he found me again, I did my best to fight him off…he was so much stronger and faster, and I've never seen anyone wield their body so violently as he had. It's dumb luck that he got understandably confident, and began toying with me. He was so malicious… just kicking me around, slapping me, cutting me… torturing me…it gave me an opportunity to stab his heart with my makeshift stake. I…suppose he didn't expect another vampire to do that…" Rachel continued, her voice saturated with emotion, the girl clearly in tune with the events of that night. Santana had to fight to stay in place until the end, knowing that Rachel hated being interrupted more than she liked hugs. And while a hug wouldn't make anything better by any stretch, and Santana knew that she had days of work ahead of her to figure out how best to keep the diva safe, a hug would have to do for now. "So I sat there as he just…started burning away to ash. And when a particularly strong gust of wind blew what was left of him away, I crawled away to the picnic area and under one of the tables. I was terrified and paranoid of just so much. The vampire had told me about some hunters that had been tracking him, and he'd hoped they would have taken me out, and I knew if they were near, I was as good as dead…well…more dead."

It all sounded almost too wild to believe, but Santana didn't really know of any reason why Berry would lie, so she just let herself take it all in. And with the story in her mind and heart, she could only be thankful that Rachel had survived, that she'd fought to stick around. It at least let her know that the diva wanted to stick around, despite how morose she'd been. It was something she'd questioned herself about since their meeting in the park. "What about that wolf? I mean…I know I didn't imagine that thing growling and snapping at me."

"It actually helped me escape. I…I was really, really weak from being hurt so badly, and I used much of the last remnants of my energy keeping you away from me, so I wouldn't…you know. So the wolf just…stood by me and kept nudging me and positioning its neck by my face. I...fed off of it for a few seconds. It was enough so that I could have the strength to move again." Rachel explained, and Santana couldn't really fathom why a wolf would do that right then, so she just decided to focus on something that was easier to discuss.

"Do you need to drink blood, like, regularly or something? Like, once a day, every few days, every week…?" She asked, letting her voice trail off, because she was pretty sure her point was made, and she was being pretty clear in asking about this bloody situation. Pun intended.

Rachel shook her head, the action easing some of the tension that had been building in Santana's chest over the possibility that Rachel could jump her. "I feel the urge, but…I haven't had to. The only time I was feeling desperate was when I'd lost so much, and was just feeling so overwhelmed and unraveled. But I can control myself, I think. And I'll just throw most of it up anyway, if I do drink."

"Because it's wolf's blood?" Santana asked, not sure why Berry would react like that if she was a vampire.

Berry gave an uncharacteristic roll of her eyes and let out a petulant huff at her, which was kind of nice to see; it was like Rachel was still that same frustrating girl from school. "It's because I'm a vegan, and I'm strongly morally and ethically opposed to that sort of thing, Santana." Rachel spoke firmly, her face scrunching in frustration as Santana let out a laugh, unable to keep from expressing her amusement at how typical that was. And it might have given her a little more hope, anyway.

"So why'd the wolf let you feed, anyway? I mean…seriously. I don't get it." She asked, genuinely baffled about why a wolf would do that. It didn't make sense, wolves didn't do anything like that. It would have attacked Rachel instead, she was dead sure of that.

"If vampires are real, maybe…maybe other things are too." Rachel noted softly with a shrug, but the weight of that vocalized thought hit Santana a bit harder, the possibilities of all kinds of supernatural fuckery filling her head like some bullshit shit storm of fangs, full moons and faerie wings.

Santana nodded slowly as she fought to clear her mind and just try to focus on simple things like breathing and speaking. "I think things just got a lot more complicated, chiclet."

* * *

If Rachel was surprised by one thing, it was the loyalty Santana had been showing her all night long. While it was crystal clear that the cheerleader didn't fully trust her, the girl was clearly making an effort in finding ways to help, which is much more than she thought would have happened. In truth, she thought Santana would have returned from 'thinking' with a wooden stake, not research materials and gummi worms. _It's strange to think, but perhaps Santana trusts me, just not my newly awakened vampiric urges…which I suppose is much better than nothing, and completely understandable, in the grand scheme of things…_

Rachel's eyes scanned upward to the clock above the bar, noticing that they had been researching for hours now, it being a little past one in the morning. "Santana?" she called out softly, drawing the girl's attention away from some thick hardcover book. "I truly appreciate your help and support, you don't know what it means to me that I'm not alone anymore. I've been struggling these past few weeks, and to know I have someone watching out for me…I can't thank you enough. But I can ask that you go and get some rest while I continue…you have school early tomorrow morning, and…"

"Not until we have a better idea of what could be out there, what you could be." Santana interrupted with a shake of her head, shifting her focus back to the book she was reading intently.

Rachel quietly sighed and tried to think about how to handle the situation, but she was lost. She'd never been particularly good at negotiating with Santana in the past, and had no idea what the limits were to the cheerleader's stubbornness. "You don't need to do that…you said it yourself, I'm safe here. We have time to research more later on. You should go to school, have a…normal life." She spoke, cringing at how those last two words caught in her throat for an extra half second or so.

However, she watched Santana slowly bookmark her page and close the tome, pushing it aside before slipping off of her stool and to her feet. She smiled in relief that the girl was taking her advice, though it faded when Santana rounded the bar and strolled towards her, stopping about a foot away from where she sat. Rachel watched the girl with curiosity, taking in the slightly furrowed brow, the slightly clenched jaw, the determined glint in her eyes. None of the expressions made any sense until she saw Santana open her arms and gesture her in for a hug.

It was immediately difficult to understand why Santana Lopez of all people was offering her such affection, but she didn't really feel that she could pass it up. Rachel had missed hugs terribly; she used to get one or two sneaky hugs from Brittany on a daily basis, and at least one each from her parents. On her worst, hardest days at school, they were what she looked forward to, they were what helped her deal with all the slushies and insults and dumpster tosses. Rachel was affectionate when given the opportunity, and knowing she'd never get those opportunities back made her heart ache tremendously. She practically melted into Santana's body as her arms wrapped around the girl's waist and clutched the fabric of the Cheerios sweater for dear life, tears of frustration and loss streaming down her face. All her life, she'd never felt she'd been given a fair shake, and that had certainly translated to her undead existence. It wasn't fair, and she finally felt safe enough to grieve her lost dreams, friends, family, and all the simple little aspects of her life that had given her hope. They were all gone, and while she could find new goals and dreams and signs of hope, Rachel knew it would be limited and rare. Her bright light was dimmed now.

To Santana's credit, the girl reacted fairly quickly in reciprocating, her arms helping soothe Rachel's broken heart, if only just a little bit. Slowly, she felt herself being led somewhere as Santana held her close by the waist with one arm, the other holding her head to the cheerleader's shoulder. It was a comforting position that was only made more so when she felt Santana lower the both of them onto the nearby couch. There was just so much pain to release, and it was only compounded by the ever-present urge to feed, her mouth a mere inch from the girl's exposed neck; thankfully, her remaining willpower and the comfort of the embrace was enough to quell that side of her, and let her focus on the small circles Santana was rubbing at the small of her back, and the faintly whispered Spanish words that washed against her ears.

"I can't promise that I'll keep you alive forever, that I'll be able to beat a werewolf in a fist fight, or that I'll be any match for some hunter, but I promise I'll be as prepared as I can be. I'll give you a fighting chance." Santana's words were soft against her ears as the girl held her close, her warmth and promises enough to slow Rachel's sobs momentarily.

"It's your…your senior y…year. Can't do th…this forever." She stammered out between sobs, clutching hard at the girl's sweater, burying her face in Santana's collarbone; she was frustrated with the girl for her promises, even if they made her feel safe. Even if she yearned for such shelter and kindness.

For the second time in a short span of days, Rachel felt her host's lips press against her head for a comforting, fleeting moment. "I was planning on New York, anyway. I'd be up for having a mistress of the night bunking with me." The playful tone nearly masked Rachel's comprehension of the girl's intent, but not quite.

Rachel huffed and lightly smacked Santana's back with one of her hands for calling her a 'mistress of the night'. It was just too tacky for her liking. And with her current status, that city meant nothing to her anymore. "There's nothing for me in New York, Santana."

"Do you like to sing?" Santana retorted quickly, which earned the girl an indignant huff, because of course Rachel liked to sing. Even if it hurt now, it was still her favourite means of expression. "Well don't give up yet, then. You've still got your pipes, so yeah…Broadway might be impossible, it might not. But there's still lounge singing and off-Broadway night plays and everything, and in the winter it gets dark early. You can still have a good life. Your dreams aren't dead yet, Rachel."

And much of what she said was true; there were still plenty of opportunities, but her dreams had always been Broadway, playing in a revival of 'Funny Girl', or perhaps 'Wicked!' or 'Spring Awakening'. She wouldn't be that massive star that she'd dreamed of being, but there were still opportunities for stardom. Just more limited, with restrictions. And even those were hard to put stock in since one brief incident with a stranger robbed her of her dreams. "I'm scared to believe I can still do it." She confided, feeling that she was safe enough where she was to tell the truth and be honest. Rachel didn't want to lie to Santana, not about this.

"Most people are when it comes to what they want the most." Santana noted quietly, Rachel reluctantly relenting as Santana let go of her and ran her small hands down the diva's arms, clasping her hands. "You're cold…can you feel it?" Rachel nodded sadly, because while it wasn't like she was freezing, it was uncomfortable and chilly nonetheless. "Were you warmer after you fed off that wolf?"

Again, Rachel nodded her answer. "Not for long, since I threw most of it up, but there was some residual warmth." She spoke, unsure what the reason for the sudden shift in topic was for. Santana just smiled and gave her an appraising look that kind of made her nervous.

"Can you help me train?" The words stunned Rachel so much that all she could do is gape openly at the girl whose lap she was basically straddling, unsure of how to answer that question. After a few seconds of silence and evasive words, Santana continued. "I'm just…I'll need to be able to protect myself and you if we run into trouble, and I want to at least be able to buy some time. As much as I'm confident in myself when it comes to regular people, everything else is new territory…I've been taking muay thai for years, and I've shot some pistols and rifles before at the range with Quinn, but unless I know what I'm up against and what could help turn the tide, I'll be pretty useless."

Rachel nodded at the explanation, understanding the possible need for some combat training. Still, it wasn't anything that she was personally comfortable with. "I'm more of a pacifist, Santana. I've just fought poorly in self defense before, and I wasn't fond of it, to say the least."

"Have you felt weaker since becoming a vampire?" Santana asked, the question stilling Rachel for a moment before she came to a reasonable guess, nodding her head in confirmation. "If I buy some blood, will you drink a little of it for me? I need to know how it affects you."

Rachel closed her eyes at the mere thought of drinking blood; part of her body craved it, certainly, but the mere idea of ingesting it was revolting. Disgusting. Monstrous. "I'm not exactly keen on the idea, Santana." She mumbled, pulling her hands away from the cheerleader and crossing her arms in protest, feeling uncomfortable with what Santana was asking of her.

"Well I'm not 'keen' on you starving yourself to death, or getting so weak that you can't walk." Santana didn't seem at all perturbed by Rachel pulling away, instead just making use of her freed hands to scoot the diva closer to run a hand through her hair. It was something she felt like she should probably question, but it was nice to be the recipient of affection, so she kept her mouth shut about that. But not about everything.

"I'm vegan, Santana." She answered with a scoff, earning a long, exasperated sigh from her host, who seemed entirely unimpressed with her answer, even if it was entirely reasonable.

"Rachel, chiclet, you're a vampire. I know it sucks, but…you've been eating the food I bought and it doesn't look like it's been helping you. If you need blood…then you need blood. Can you, like…not be vegan one day of the week, just to make sure you stick around?" Santana made SOME sense, she supposed, but that didn't make it any more appealing or comfortable. Truth was, she had been feeling weak since she fed, and when she had been attacked the second time by that vampire, she'd been so exhausted that it had been tremendously difficult to fight back. Distracted by her thoughts and concerns, she didn't notice Santana move closer until the girl's forehead was pressing against hers, dark brown eyes searching into her own. "I'll go to bed, okay? Like you asked? Just can you at least try it once, for me?"

It was clearly a negotiating tactic, and if Rachel was to be honest, it had her off-balance. Santana was so close to her, practically begging her to do this for her in exchange for exercising Rachel's wish that she live a normal life. Rachel knew she probably should have asked for more, but the tactic was too much of a surprise; Santana had never pleaded with her for anything, and it was too surreal to even process properly. So she nodded, earning a bright smile from the cheerleader that she truly didn't wish to go away. "I'll try, but I can't promise much."

Santana just hugged her briefly before gently moving Rachel off her lap so she could stand up. "Well, I guess I'll go crash for the night. I…should be home around seven, since there's a practice tomorrow. We'll rest for a bit after, and maybe practice or research around nine, if that's cool?"

Rachel smiled, wishing she could have back her old school timetable, but at least she wouldn't be stealing that life from Santana. She slowly got up off the couch and pulled the taller girl into another hug, the cheerleader quickly reciprocating it. "Goodnight, Santana." She whispered into Santana's ear, earning a slightly delayed nod as the girl unraveled herself from Rachel's arms. The cheerleader offered an odd, nervous wave before making her way back upstairs, leaving her alone in the basement. It was a strange end to the night, but she was satisfied that at least one of them would lead a regular life. Knowing that she really didn't have a tremendous need to schedule her sleeping hours, Rachel took her time cleaning and packing up the research back into the box, before making her way to her comfy bed in the attic. It was always difficult to sleep, what with feeling so cold, but with her arms around the familiar elephant plushie Santana had given her, she eventually drifted off, hoping for better days.

* * *

Tuesday had not been a good day. Coach called her phone early in the morning for a surprise hour long practice, her history teacher gave the class a pop quiz on what they learned on Monday and on the readings they were supposed to have done for Tuesday, she'd had to spend her lunch hour terrorizing some junior who thought it was okay to insult Britt, Mr. Schue rapped in glee, and Coach ran her practice extra-long after school. All in all, it had been a terrible day, and Santana was happy to finally be walking through the parking lot toward her car, which would take her home to a nice relaxing bath.

"Santana!" She heard called out from behind her, regretfully slowing her steps so that Quinn could catch up to her. Still, she made it to her car before the blonde closed the distance, so she sat on the trunk and cocked a questioning eyebrow, wondering what was up. Her friend hadn't really been all that active in her life across the past few weeks, and it was curious to see the girl making an effort today of all days. Sure, they exchanged texts all the time, but there hadn't really been any phone calls or hang-outs in a long time. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

_Oh, right, I was supposed to be sick last night…_ she recalled as she gave a shrug to the blonde. "Tired. Leave it to coach to ruin the fact that I was feeling better this morning by giving us two hours of extra practice." She snarked, looking back toward the field where Sue was watching Becky douse the flames that had been surrounding the track. _I swear, one day that woman will end up killing one of her cheerleaders…_

"She's miserable like that some days. I think she had a sixth sense and did it just because she knew that you weren't a hundred percent today." Quinn sidled up on the trunk with her and gave Santana a little shoulder nudge. "But you seemed a little tense, too. And since I'm your captain, and friend, I'd check up on you."

Santana was surprised with how quickly she came up with an excuse, considering she wasn't normally so quick-thinking when caught off guard. "Dad hit the bottle about an hour after you texted me, so there's that. And with all the disappearances, who wouldn't be a little on edge?"

She felt Quinn's hand on her leg more than she saw it, her eyes still staring across the parking lot toward the road, cars whizzing by at speeds that would get them seriously fined for speeding in a school zone. Well, if Lima police actually ever pulled anyone over for that. "Is Santana Lopez scared of the bogeyman, now?"

Santana turned her head to face her blonde friend, who was wearing a playful smirk that on most days she'd generally prefer to lightly smack off in some way or another. Today, she was just too tired to come up with anything witty enough to hit back without being too insulting. "Someone's grabbing kids from here, including some pretty big ones, so I'm just kind of hyper-aware or whatever. You know how Britt is…she wanders everywhere, and with how things have been…you know." Santana noted as she shook her head, and it was true, she did worry. Britt worried her tremendously, but her parents had been keeping her indoors most evenings, and rumour is that they promised her a pet duck for Christmas if she stayed inside until this whole thing blew over.

"Brittany will be fine, San. She's pretty good at following instructions as long as they're simple." Quinn said, which was also true, but it didn't change the fact that Britt sometimes got lost in grocery stores, and if she went out after dark, which was a little over an hour before curfew these days, then she could be taken.

Still, she nodded in agreement, figuring she'd just do so in order to cleanly change the subject away from her other blonde friend. "How are you feeling about this whole mess, anyway?"

Quinn's tired sigh was all she really needed to hear from the girl, given how well they knew each other. Quinn once said that she knew how she, Santana and Brittany would move in tandem by tiny facial twitches on San's face, or what direction her eyes flickered, or the positioning of her feet, and it was true. They were a well oiled machine, and if someone played a song, they could figure some choreography out on the fly pretty easily. So loud, expressive gestures like that sigh? The length, loudness, tone and how cut off it was at the end all told her that poor Q was worn out and frustrated. Which was a bit curious, given that blondie never went anywhere anymore except church outings, but whatever.

"My parents are worried, and I've been spending a lot more time being dragged to church groups and everything, but all in all I'm okay." Quinn noted wearily with a half shrug of her own, something that rarely happened, given the girl's traditionally conditioned manners and deportment. "I kind of miss the parties, but that's apparently how people are going missing."

"Well, without my wing-lady, I don't have a reason to go either." Santana said with a laugh, recalling all the pranks she'd managed to get Quinn and Britt to help her with in the past. As prudish and proper as Quinn often was, the girl would get flat out mischievous with a wine cooler in her system, and definitely had a mind for mayhem much like Santana did.

Quinn laughed out, though by the teasing grin on her face, Santana knew it was for a much different reason. "It's for the best…no one wants to see weepy-hysterical Sannie cradling a bottle of tequila, half hidden under the kitchen sink."

And okay, that was totes harsh. Sure, Santana knew that she got pretty emotional when she was drunk; the stuff just leaked out of her sometimes, and it usually leaked from her eyes, so whatever. It wasn't like she was, like, ugly sobbing or anything. Not that she was capable of it, because she was always damn hot or whatever. So Santana pouted and crossed her arms, not at all impressed with what Quinn was insinuating. "I'm not THAT bad…not always…"

Blondie, of course, just kept laughing until she got that shit out of her system, which took a good half minute. Which, really, was totes overkill. "So, are you doing anything tonight?" Quinn asked, and it was arguably the easiest one she'd had to answer all day long.

"If the curfew's good for anything, it's keeping me focused on school. With my dad how he's been since I came out to him…I'm pretty sure I'll need a scholarship. So I'm working on my cheerleading and my grades, hoping to keep as close to 4.0 as possible. I just wish Berry was still around so we could get a nationals trophy too." Santana explained it all as best as she could, mixing a boatload of truth with a little lie in order to hopefully get Quinn to back off for the night. More or less, she knew that if she told the girl she needed some quality rest, Q would tag along and shit for a spa night and sleepover, and Santana figured she had too much to handle at home with Rachel to manage that tonight.

Santana braved a glance back at the blonde, whose lips were curled into a sad smile. "It's weird, but I kind of miss the crazy diva." Santana didn't feel like she'd be able to say anything without tipping Quinn off, so she just gave a shrug, ever so subtly nodding. Quinn would know she felt the same, because she did before she found Rachel. It just felt really strange, though, that she had the singer all to herself now, for better or worse. "So…are you busy tonight?"

The reiterated question broke Santana from her thoughts, forcing a stiff nod from her. "Uh, yeah. I've got a test in three days that I have to ace, and calculus isn't my strongest subject. I'm pretty sure I'll go home, grab a bite to eat, and then study until my eyes bleed or I fall asleep. Whatever comes first."

Santana hoped her spiel was convincing, and thankfully, Quinn seemed to accept it, even if the girl looked oddly disappointed. And yeah, she missed hanging out with the blonde, but she really DID have things to do. "I understand, but we should hang out soon." Quinn noted quietly, slowly getting off the car's trunk and back on the tarmac. It was brief, but she caught a flicker of something that nearly had her putting off her night's plans in favor of spending it with the blonde.

It had been a while since she'd seen the girl so dejected, and it wasn't a good look on her. They'd never been the most emotionally open to each other, always hiding behind masks of snarky words, barbed wit and hidden subtext. She could see the conflict wash across blondie's face directly after at her slip-up, and that sealed the deal. If it was serious enough to mess their dynamic, she'd work with that, because Q was important to her. "We really should, Q. I miss you." she noted honestly, smiling long enough for Quinn to turn her head and see it, Santana enjoying the cocked eyebrow and smirk the blonde was wearing. Her masks were back up, and she was being playful and teasing again, but Q's eyes were funny things in that they changed their colour ever so slightly when the girl was excited, scared, happy, among other emotions. It was faint, but the girl's pupils would dilate ever so slightly, and her irises would get a tiny bit greener when she was happy. And Quinn looked quite content. "I wish I could handle company tonight, but I need to kick this test's ass. It's worth forty percent, and there's no room for mistakes. I'll call you on my study break though, okay?"

"Desperate much, San? But okay… I'll just lay on my bed, freshly showered and glistening, all by my lonesome with my phone beside me, waiting…yearning for your call, to hear your sweet voice, your soft words, promising…" Quinn started, speaking some weird fake southern belle accent to play up the ridiculously cheesy dramatics she was sure to spin up. Sometimes the girl would tease her and go on lengthy monologues about weird ass shit, and sometimes that shit would be vaguely sexual in nature, and if Santana wasn't so sure blondie was straight, she would have done something about it. Instead, she just grinned at the girl's silliness and decided to wait it out. "…promising that you'll take me away in your strong, loving arms, stealing me off into the sunset and away from my earthly restraints and duties… for a dinner at Breadstix Friday evening to celebrate your test being over, and me not having to go to my church group until Saturday morning." Quinn finished, batting her eyelashes comically for good measure. And honestly, dinner at Breadstix was always a good idea, and she had advance notice to clear it with Rachel, so Santana figured it was a good enough plan.

"Careful, blondie. You say that shit in your usual voice one day and I might get ideas." Santana joked, winking at her friend, who was too busy laughing at her own antics to respond in any meaningful way. "But Friday works for me, Q. Sue's got a doctor's appointment for that baby she's trying to spawn, so there's no practice that night, meaning I can pick you up at five?" She asked as Quinn started regaining her composure, the blonde tapping her chin with her finger in mock deliberation.

"Hrm. No conditions or rules for you showing up? Am I getting special treatment now?" Quinn asked sarcastically, narrowing her eyes good-naturedly; yeah, Santana usually had conditions on going to Breadstix with people if it was one on one. It had been her shtick back in sophomore year that she used to fake being straight and play up her rep.

So with that in mind, she just shrugged and slid off the trunk to her feet. "Well, I'd say something like 'be out on your porch at five on Friday, and if I don't find any hotter chicks to date between now and then, I might show up', but let's face it, Q…you're like a moderately distant number two on the Hot Bitches of America list, behind me of course."

"Careful, San. If I wasn't such a good Christian girl immune to lesbian charms, I might take that as more than a platonic compliment." Quinn chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, because they flirted a lot. It happened often enough, at least when no one else was around to hear, and it was always just playful teasing. Plus, it was funny to hear what Q would come up with, or how the blonde would spin her verbal creations. "Anyway, good luck tonight, San. I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, she gave the girl a wave and slipped into the driver's seat, quickly making her way out of the parking lot and toward her destination after her brief-yet-entertaining detour. Britt had always been her ball of sunshine and fun, but Quinn kept her mind sharp. Quinn kept her up some nights, just thinking up witty little sentences to jab the blonde with the next day. They were competitive, but never really to the point of losing their friendship entirely; there had been some missteps, but all in all Q was still one of her people, and she was pretty sure Quinn felt the same way.

When she got home, it was as silent as a tomb; it was still light outside, so she knew Rachel would be sleeping. It was good, because the girl seemed to think sleeping preserved her energy, which apparently only blood could re-fill. She'd already planned out a trip to her uncle's friend's workplace to grab a bunch of cow's blood the next evening, figuring she'd bottle it up and keep some in storage. It wasn't human blood, but it was at least a test to see if it would help refresh Rachel's energy. Santana didn't want to leave the girl's blood intake for much longer than Thursday night, having already noticed the girl was starting to get a little sluggish. It was likely that the healing took a lot of energy, and that was what really weakened her. She just really hoped that she wouldn't have to find the diva some human blood.

Deciding to think about something happier, Santana gave herself a nice warm bath before settling down in the living room with a thermos of hot chocolate and her homework. She'd planned on getting it all done by the time Rachel woke, but she heard light footsteps on the floor above just as she was finishing the last page of the short essay she'd been assigned.

So Santana angled herself sideways on the couch, resting her notebook between her legs, writing blindly as she watched the diva creep downstairs, Berry peeking out at her with a shy smile. It sucked that Rachel had to hide away all day, it wasn't exactly something Santana enjoyed thinking about, so she decided to at least try and make the hours she was able to spend with her worthwhile and fun._ Because Rachel is still a kid, like me, and she deserves to relax and have fun. Hell, she deserves a lot more than that…it's fucked up that the girl with the biggest dreams, the one who fought the hardest to make them come true, got permanently fucked over. I mean…I don't know much, and I can't do much, but I want to help her…_ she mused to herself, waving Berry over to her. Initially, she'd figured they'd rest a little before getting back at researching, but Santana just didn't feel like she had the energy to do that, but she always had a plan B.

"You're good at proofreading essays, right chiclet?" She asked, her question widening the diva's smile as the girl approached. "Got a night of movies planned once I get this thing done, and I could use another set of eyes before I grind out a conclusion."

Rachel plopped down beside her and leaned over her to get a better look at the notebook. Santana rolled her eyes and just handed the girl her book with one hand, and pulling the diva to rest against her with the other, deciding it would be easier for the both of them to be able to look at the same time. And maybe there was a nice side-effect of just having someone close.

* * *

**A/N: Welp, here's the second chapter! Not as dark as the first, though I figured there would need to be a bit of a breather after the last one…kind of give some information, introduce Quinn, and set some things in motion. Things will pick up pretty quickly out of necessity, which will come along in chapter 3 and 4 for certain. **

**I took some creative liberties with Quinn here: Mostly because there aren't very many verbal encounters between the two in the show, but they're usually pretty candid with each other, and…if there's such a thing…comfortably tense (in that there's often sexual tension, but they both seem pretty okay with it and not awkward, such as during Schue's non-wedding). So I figured that given the show's more recent canon events across season 4, and how close they were from that scene during natl's at NY through the end of high school, I'd use that as a base. I'm also keeping Quinn on the Cheerios and ignoring the punk phase stuff (at least for now). So much like the rest of the characters, they're not fully designed with the canon in mind…I mean, it's a supernatural themed story, which would automatically eliminate any possibility of canon anyway, so I hope I don't upset anyone. If I do…my apologies, and I hope you still enjoy this. If you don't, I'm thrilled to declare that there are thousands of other quality stories in the glee fandom for you to read. :)**

**Anywho, some of my changes (no punk!Quinn, San's mom being dead, etc.) will make sense as the story unfolds. Obviously this story is AU so I'm basically taking some freedoms, using newer canon information to help frame and develop the characters involved.**

**Thanks so much for all the support, I hope you're enjoying it! Thanks for reading!**

**Guest Review comments:**

_**Guest(1)**_**: Faberry is a possibility. While I haven't written a lengthy fic with that pairing in it yet (I tend to run Pezberry or Quinntana, usually), I have been feeling an urge over the past months to mix it up. It's possible. If I told you I wasn't 100% locked in on what to decide…I'd be telling you the truth ;)**

_**Guest(2)**_**: Pezberry is also possible, given my love for it (it IS my OTP, I suppose). As well as Quinntana, and other pairings or whatnot.**

_**Guest(3)**_**: See, I've gotten some feedback saying I'm always much too mean to Santana, in terms of putting her through hell, or generally giving her really bad stuff to deal with. Which, I'll admit, is true to a degree. So I decided to put Rachel in trouble here this time, because supernatural stories generally need trouble, at least the ones with the sort of story I'll be spinning. And to answer your question…well, this chapter probably answered it, but assume that people in general have no clue what really exists out there. Before this, Santana had no idea that Vampires or anything else like that could exist.  
And thank you for your support, I hope you like the new Feathers release :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Three weeks. It was difficult to believe it had already been that long since Santana had stumbled upon her and ultimately offered up her home as a safe haven, but it had been twenty days since. So not a full three weeks, but nearly that amount of time, which was a constant surprise given that she hadn't expected to live past that fateful night. So ultimately, in the grand scheme of things, she admittedly really shouldn't have had much to complain about lately, but there was always something. Thankfully, nothing major tended to linger in her mind for very long; thinking about her lost dreams was a pain too difficult to ponder about for too long, and Rachel had done well in ensuring she had all the distractions she needed.

In truth, she was simply feeling cooped up and stir crazy for the most part. Well, add on a healthy dose of loneliness, and that would be more accurate, but she had been getting restless lately. Santana had been getting tremendously busy with practices and cheer meets lately, as well as exams, so they hadn't enjoyed much quality time together across the past week and a half. Thankfully, winter break was approaching, but it still was sad that Santana was getting so stressed over everything, and that her presence hadn't been of any help; Rachel knew the girl still wanted to push for more research and more training, but she didn't mind not having to ingest much blood lately. It was easier on her mind and morals, even if it left her a little less energetic. _Okay, a lot less energetic…but it's not like I can go anywhere outside of the house, and Santana's been really busy lately…so no real need for energy._

Blood, she found, did make her feel better physically in a number of ways, though feeling warm was probably the best one. After feeling cold for so long, it was incredibly nice to take the chill off, and when Santana had grazed her later in one training session and noticed her temperature difference, her host and newest friend was quick to finish the session off early so they could just enjoy the warmth on the couch together. Santana had said something about testing whether she could help warm Rachel up if she had some extra blood in her, which Rachel was totally for given her love of affection and the finding that Santana's body heat could indeed warm her up further, if just a tiny bit. It almost made her want to take in more blood on a regular basis. Almost.

There had been other findings too across their research, though most were curious, disheartening, or kind of scary. They had both agreed to figure out her limitations, her abilities, her weaknesses, among other things, but it became clear pretty early on that Santana didn't have much of a heart for it, especially if it involved pain. Having visitation privileges revoked, for example, was both terrifying and terribly painful; her body very much felt like it was slowly erupting from the inside, as if every vein and artery in her body were dormant volcanoes cracking open. Rachel had barely noticed the blood seeping from her mouth, nose, ears and other orifices until she'd heard Santana yelling frantically that she was given permission again, her friend tenderly wiping the tears of blood that had seeped from her eyes. That had not been a fun clean up, and she'd spent most of the rest of the night huddled up with Santana, watching comedy movies in hopes of helping her somewhat traumatized friend cope. It wasn't as if Rachel hadn't been entirely disheartened and upset about the reaction, it was just that she knew it was her reality going forward. There wasn't any escaping it, so she'd have to deal with it, and as Santana was her staunch support system, she'd help her friend cope as well as possible.

Which ended up being more difficult than she'd initially imagined. Less than three weeks in, and the memory of Santana Lopez, bad ass HBIC full of snark, wit, and unshakeable mental fortitude was a distant one. Not that she wasn't aware that those qualities still existed, it was just difficult to recognize them as key components of her personality when the girl would get home from school and worry herself over what experiment Rachel had managed to pull in her absence. With the sun setting so early, she often had a while to tinker around before Santana got home from cheer practice, and because the cheerleader often shied away from some of the more potentially painful research questions they had prepared, Rachel often took the initiative. Which usually aggravated Santana to no end.

And so she'd endured about twenty five seconds of direct sunlight on her arm, which had been fairly scorched and caused enough damage for her to require pain medication for the second time since the initial damage on the night she'd been housed; the first being when she was denied visitation, of course. Other trials hadn't been so horrible, though; garlic simply smelled absolutely awful, and being too close to too much actually had her feeling nauseous and dry heaving. So that was registered as a threat to her if she'd recently ingested blood, but otherwise simply an allergy or a really terrible nuisance. Rachel could cross running water, which she knew from before Santana housed her just like she knew that her reflection was blurred and out of focus, and that she could remain awake during daylight hours for roughly an hour and forty minutes before feeling the pull of sleep, and could wake within a similar time span from sundown. Rachel was pretty certain that she could remain awake for longer if she tried, but felt that knowing natural, generic data was more important. Such as breathing; she hadn't told Santana how she'd tested it, despite the other girl's concerns, but she learned that she simply couldn't be asphyxiated or drowned. Rachel could breathe, but she found that if she focused, she wouldn't ever reach that old familiar breaking point where her body demanded oxygen. Simply, she just ran out. It was yet another disheartening finding.

Another, while cliché and expected, also had a similar effect, when Santana exposed her to a silver Star of David. At a distance, it only caused a sense of unease, but on contact, it burned. Not as badly as sunlight, but it burned, and left a mark that took a while to disappear. The Christian cross did as well, to a lesser degree, but no other symbols had any effect; Rachel hypothesized that it had to do with her soul's prior beliefs. Santana hypothesized that it was bullshit, but was clearly thankful that not ALL religious symbols had that impact on her. It all seemed a bit backward that she could wield stakes of various types of wood, each only causing pain as the tip touched the skin over her heart. Or, at least, the general area around it.

Training with Santana had also revealed a little aside from the knowledge that the cheerleader was certainly a more technically capable combatant than she was. Upon drinking blood, Rachel would sometimes react faster than she ever thought she could, move faster, hit harder. She still almost always lost, and she knew that Santana was still nervous about encountering another vampire due to Rachel admittedly being quite underpowered due to her lack of blood intake, but the cheerleader never brought it up. For that, Rachel was thankful. It was hard enough keeping down the blood Santana gave her every so often; drinking more had her queasy just thinking about it.

Rachel almost reached out to grab one of the gummi worms that Santana had seemed to have bought by the truckload, but decided that she didn't really need it. They served a much better purpose when she was feeling decidedly less than human, when she was in pain, or sad, whereas currently she was just a little nauseous. So she instead focused back on the book she'd been reading and curled up in her corner of the basement couch again; Santana had said she wanted to do some cleaning and organizing upstairs, something Rachel felt was desperately needed considering the girl's room looked like a bombshell went off in there. _And I know she'd just get fussy if I tried to help her organize, so I'll wait patiently…_

It was just shortly after ten when she heard slightly slower, heavier footsteps upstairs, ones that soon made a path down into the basement where she was waiting. Rachel offered Santana a curious smile, wondering exactly what the girl was lugging downstairs in a large taped up box; the last time the cheerleader hauled something heavy downstairs, it was research material, so her interest was piqued. Combine that with the giddy grin on the girl's face, and Rachel knew SOMETHING was up.

So she watched intently as Santana placed the moderately sized box down and pulled something out of it, using her body to shield it from Rachel's gaze. After about fifteen or so extra seconds of rummaging, the cheerleader stepped away, causing the diva's eyes to widen. With her mind racing and full of memories, she nearly let the microphone tossed her way hit her in the face, only barely managing to catch the thing as she dazedly stood up and walked closer. "What are you doing?" she asked, still not entirely sure she was in some dream, or that she was mentally prepared for something like this.

Santana bit her lip and did this weirdly cute little bouncing motion on the balls of her feet out of apparent excitement, her eyes wide and dark and really exuberant. It wasn't a look she would have expected on anyone aside from Brittany, but she supposed that perhaps after so many years around each other, the blonde must have rubbed off on Santana. "I've got all weekend to study, and you've been kind of down lately, so I figured you'd be up for a bit of music therapy."

It was an entirely pleasant gesture, though the thought of singing had her nervous; it was an act that once brought her joy, an act that she used to express herself honestly and openly for her whole life, one that had been tied directly to her dreams. "Santana, you really shouldn't have gone through the effort." She noted with a smile, hoping to let the girl down easy.

Santana, however, wasn't having it, taking the time to turn the karaoke machine on, and then connect it to her display. "You love to sing…I know that hasn't gone away. I mean…you're you."

"I loved it when I knew I'd get to Broadway." She blurted out, internally cursing herself at her lack of filter when she most desperately needed it. As soon as she'd mentioned the 'B-word', Santana was like a shark in blood-infested waters.

Which looked a lot different from McKinley HBIC Santana, because while the girl lacked the fiery demonic glare that terrified the masses, she had a very different yet very effective approach. The weary sigh came first, Rachel knew, and she'd gotten better at not reacting to it, but the closer Santana got to her with that wounded expression on her face, the more she knew that the girl had her number. And when two tanned hands were gently rested on her shoulders, and those deep brown eyes seemed that much bigger and caused her to feel a newly familiar tingle in her gut, she knew she'd eventually give in. "Your life isn't over yet, mariposa. You can still do so much, you can still kick ass on a stage somewhere. Fuck the haters." Santana stated softly and confidently, her eyes urging Rachel to accept her words as fact, something she just had a hard time doing.

"Santana, I'd like to believe…" She started wearily, hoping to not disappoint her friend, but her words just couldn't form once Santana's hands slid up to cup her face. It was pretty much impossible to do anything but wonder whether her breath would have been utterly stolen from the gesture had she been fully human still, because she did indeed find herself in need of taking in air in order to speak further.

"Then believe. Because I believe, Berry." Santana whispered firmly, her forehead lightly resting against Rachel's and that was it. Her eyes shifted to focus on the karaoke machine, and she couldn't help but admit that it was a rather alluring option, even with the knowledge that she might not be able to sing on a stage again. It certainly didn't hurt that she'd never had a chance to duet with Santana, either, and she now had that opportunity.

Rachel let out a long breath and turned her gaze back to Santana's questioning brown eyes. "I…have missed singing, I suppose." She mumbled, giving in to the inevitable, although feeling a little better given what Santana had said.

The cheerleader rubbed Rachel's shoulders and let out a victorious hum. "Of course you've missed it. I remember when you needed music like you needed oxygen. People don't change that much, chiclet." Santana stated as she pulled away and ushered Rachel to the couch so that they could choose some music. And her host was right, once upon a time music was just about as necessary as breathing, but now that she didn't need to breathe, and couldn't be a Broadway star, things had changed. But maybe she hadn't changed so much as a person, as much as her career opportunities had.

"That's true enough, San." She remarked as she started looking for some worthwhile, respectable songs to warm-up with; after her fairly extensive hiatus from singing, Rachel was certain that she couldn't slip into a Celine Dion song and do it justice quite yet.

But as she worked through her first few songs, feeling that familiar rush from performing, Rachel couldn't help but feel that insistent, infectious happiness envelop her. For weeks, she'd held off on singing from worry, but it didn't feel any different, at least the emotionality of it. The breathing was a new thing, given she had lost many of her warning triggers for running out of breath, but it didn't take long to adjust. And as she continued, and finally performed her first duet with Santana, Whitney Houston's wonderful 'So Emotional', she couldn't help but feel like her heart was back in that familiar choir room. That same electricity was filling the basement rec room, and if she closed her eyes, she could imagine and hear the others sitting around the room, singing and cheering along. Even though it wasn't real, Rachel still felt that connection, and she was thrilled that she at least had one other person to share it with. Despite all the trials of the past few weeks, Rachel felt normal again.

She felt normal, and happy, and so full of music. So, really, Rachel felt human.

And while she really, really felt like bursting out in song, no matter what was happening on the screen, it was Santana's turn to sing. Rachel watched Santana scroll through the lists of tracks, eventually settling on 'Nutbush City Limits'; she knew the song well enough, and smiled at how they both kept to a consistently upbeat selection. And her smile only grew when, much like with many of the other songs, Santana kind of just lost herself in the song. It wasn't like Santana was a stranger to glee performances, but the cheerleader had rarely ever sang a solo or even a duet in glee. Instead, she'd join in mid-song in other performances, singing and dancing, so it kind of threw Rachel for a bit of a loop that Santana was very much someone who hadn't joined performances out of peer pressure, but because she felt the music, and she clearly couldn't help herself. It was refreshing to see that someone else expressed themselves through music like she did, and she couldn't help but appreciate the girl's dancing either. Santana was, to put it lightly, somewhat mesmerizing.

So when the doorbell interrupted Santana near the end of the performance, Rachel could only frown and check her watch, concerned and curious as to who would be out so late, given the curfew. _It's nearly midnight! Maybe Santana's father forgot his keys…that could be it…and then we could continue for a few more songs. Tonight…tonight has been wonderful…_

"I'll see who it is. Can you take care of it?" Santana asked with a sad smile, before dashing upstairs as the bell rang once more. Rachel sighed and quickly disconnected the karaoke machine and packed it up, dragging it and her bag of gummi worms into the small storage space before closing the door behind them.

Over the past few weeks, the two of them had crafted a number of emergency routines, most of which involved making it seem as if Santana was living alone. No matter what they were doing in the house, they always ensured that it could be cleaned up and hidden away within a two minute span of time. Rachel couldn't help but feel a little sad about not being able to leave her own personal footprint anywhere but that small storage space and the upstairs attic, but she understood that it was simply risk management.

A second or two later, she heard the door open upstairs and focused in hopes of more clearly hearing the conversation. "Hey, San."

Quinn. Quinn Fabray was at the door for some odd reason, and Rachel couldn't even begin to fathom why. It just seemed a little odd for a teenager to be out so late after curfew, even if it was a Friday night. And even if Quinn was one of Santana's closest friends. It just seemed a little fishy.

"Quinn? The fuck are you…hell, come in, come in." Santana said, clearly as confused as she was, and Rachel could hear the two moving toward the kitchen. "What's gotten into you, Q? Trying to steal my title as the biggest bad ass at McKinley? Because breaking curfew without an audience won't give you that."

"Can't I just visit a friend? Jeez, Santana." Quinn noted with a laugh, Rachel peeking open the storage room door to hear a little better. She knew her hearing was ridiculously excellent now, but things like hard surfaces and walls truly did muffle important things like the clarity of words and inflections.

"Not when you're putting your pasty ass in danger, blondie!" She heard Santana yell out, clearly pretty frustrated, and for good reason. Rachel knew what was out there, and she couldn't get rid of that sinking feeling in her tummy at the thought of Quinn being attacked. The blonde had been through enough already in her life, Rachel knew that any more would just be terribly cruel. She'd already accidentally overheard that Russell was back with the blonde's mother a few weeks ago, which had most likely added further strain in that household; it wasn't any wonder that Quinn sought some friendship. It just seemed a bit odd to seek it at midnight, without a prior phone call.

Quinn's scoff was surprisingly audible, given the distance. "Please, San. Everyone's going missing at the parties, so don't worry. It's not a good look on you." Quinn remarked, and Rachel could clearly imagine the exaggerated eye-roll that very likely accompanied it.

"Whatever, blondie. I'm just saying, you can't be sure that's where people are being taken, so excuse me for showing a little concern. I don't want to get saddled with head Cheerio duties this close to nationals if you get taken by whatever perv is out there." She heard Santana rant, alongside what might have been the fridge opening. For a split second, Rachel hoped that Quinn wouldn't notice the vegan food in there, but then soon realized that she'd already taken it to the basement earlier that evening for a snack before Santana had disappeared. The food didn't really do anything for her, but she liked to participate in meals, it gave her a sense of normalcy.

There was a muffled sound soon after, and she noticed that they'd stopped moving, at least. "No, I'm not hungry, but thanks. And Puck told me that all the people who went missing just vanished the night of a party, after being at that party. Probably means it's some psycho kid." Quinn noted offhandedly, sounding a little bored of the topic. Though Rachel knew if the blonde was aware of everything, she probably wouldn't be so dismissive.

"Yeah, well, just because they were at the party, doesn't mean they were taken there. Puck sends people on snack and beer runs all the time. For all he knows, the person might be lurking around stores or whatever." Santana's argument was clearly based on Rachel's experience, which she appreciated, though she was pretty sure Quinn wouldn't accept the logic.

"And I didn't go to any store on the way here, so seriously…I know you'd hate to never see me shower again, or catch me after some flips, but it's getting a little excessive, San." Quinn's tone was teasing, though with a tone of something that she hadn't really heard from the blonde before. It was somewhat playful, and Rachel couldn't help but be a little confused, given how Quinn was usually neutral, angry, ice-queen frosty, venomously annoyed, or cupcake sweet. Never really playful, per se. It was strangely annoying. "Anyway, how have you been since Monday? We haven't really hung out lately."

There was a brief moment of silence that Rachel could only interpret as Santana's 'shrug-time', a short window of time that tended to happen after people asked the girl questions. She'd seen it in person, and knew well enough that if Santana didn't answer a question right away, she was probably shrugging, or sometimes eye rolling. Rarely, she would do both at the same time. It was all a little funny, if frustrating, because Rachel had previously never really seen much depth in the shrugging motion. For Santana, though, there were a plethora of slightly different shrugs to convey different messages. The diva still didn't have nearly enough of them figured out to feel confident in what each was for, but they all lasted about the same length of time, only making them that much more cryptic and indecipherable.

"I've been fine, just made a mess downstairs this week studying, so I decided to clean it up tonight after I worked out and nearly tripped over some cups and trash." Rachel nodded at Santana's explanation, knowing that the girl actually had made something of a mess downstairs during her study sessions, though usually cleaned up somewhat afterward. It had only taken them five or so minutes to truly make the area clutter and mess free earlier in the evening.

Quinn's laugh emanated through the home, despite the thick walls and floors. "And do you sing every time you clean?"

"Most times, yeah." Santana stated immediately, sounding comfortably indifferent, something Rachel was rather impressed with, given the lie. "Especially when I'm in a good mood and thinking I'll ace my finals."

"Well if you don't need to study, there's still some time left to hang out. Your room?" Quinn asked, and soon after she heard their fading footsteps move up to the second floor, their words turning hazy and then simply not audible.

Rachel decided to use that opportunity to further clean and organize the basement in case Quinn found her way downstairs; the diva was a stickler for detail, after all. It simply wouldn't do to have Santana's cover story be exposed as illegitimate, and the cheerleader simply wasn't the type to neglect her chores from getting caught up in singing.

Once done, she retreated into the small storage space where Santana had set up a cozy little reclining chair for her. After switching the light on and getting comfy under the blankets, Rachel pulled out one of the books Santana lent her, '2666' by Roberto Bolano, which had been interesting so far. With all the time that she spent awake, and Santana spent sleeping, she often wound up with a heavy amount of free time. Reading had never been her favourite hobby, but she'd enjoyed it enough, and it was nice to read stories again and lose herself in other worlds.

It wasn't as nice as losing herself in the basement, singing karaoke with Santana like she'd been doing earlier, but it was something. Still, she really did wish that she'd been able to spend a little more time feeling like a normal teenage girl again.

* * *

Santana was pretty damn tired. She'd been up since six in the morning, and it was a little past midnight already, and knowing Quinn, it would be another forty to sixty minutes before they hit the hay. This wasn't particularly a new thing, and she generally knew the drill. Q wasn't the type to make late night visits to just anyone, for just any reason. Usually, she didn't pry for a plethora of reasons, primarily because the last time she did, Quinn had cut Santana out of her life for the final three or so months of her pregnancy. She'd been the only one who hadn't been given permission to visit Quinn after the ordeal, but at least she'd been able to sneak a peek at the kid before Shelby had adopted her.

So she knew the risks of asking questions. She knew the risks of deviating from the small talk and silent cuddling that the blonde needed every so often. And it wasn't like Santana minded, because she'd do anything for the blonde, but lately, she'd been worried. A little before people started going missing, Russell had moved back into the Fabray home, and that had instantly put Quinn on edge, for good reason. And every weekend since, Quinn had been hauled off to some Christian bible thumper camp thing, which would have just been something she'd tease the girl over if Q didn't come into school every Monday looking exhausted. Combine all that with the girl usually wearing jeans, long sleeve sweaters and occasionally maxi skirts on her free time, as well as their cheerios-issued white turtlenecks that Quinn loathed, and Santana knew something was up, that it was serious. It had been months since Quinn had popped by so late, and she was always happy to help, but this time she needed answers. Especially considering that Quinn usually left early Saturday mornings at the latest for that bible shit, and sleeping over at her house probably meant that it was a no-go that weekend.

"I'm just gonna get ready…why don't you get all set up, okay?" Santana asked, drawing a small nod from the blonde, who was busy appraising her messy bedroom as usual.

It was a bit of a tactical decision, really. The bathroom was between her bedroom and the attic, and if Quinn decided to go exploring for some inexplicable reason, she'd hear. Santana wasn't like Berry used to be, her nightly ritual was fairly short in comparison, and after about twelve or so minutes, she was strolling back into her room; Quinn was already under the covers, the blonde's clothes neatly folded on the computer chair. Soon enough, she'd changed into her usual sleep attire, shut off the lights, and slid in beside her friend.

Already, she knew something was off, given that the blonde was facing away from her. If there was still something that Quinn tended to be instinctual about, it was to never give her back to anyone, so Santana was pretty shocked to see that even when she got settled in, the blonde didn't turn to face her. Deciding to take advantage of the scenario, she cautiously wiggled her way across the space between them and gently draped an arm around Quinn's waist; the action had Quinn tensing up, but she was motivated, working to slip her other arm under the girl. The pained hiss that the blonde let out when her arm pressed faintly against the girl's ribs stilled her attempt.

"Q? What's wrong?" she whispered quietly, not moving any part of her body in hopes of ensuring that she doesn't cause the girl any pain.

"Nothing, I just don't…don't hug me, Santana. Go back to your side." Quinn gritted out firmly, but she knew Quinn. If there was one person in the world that she absolutely knew better than anyone else, she'd probably say it was Quinn, and that wasn't her annoyed, frustrated, emotionally overwhelmed or mentally exhausted tones and sounds. It was clear as day that Quinn was hurt, and the residual pain was affecting her speech, which made sense if the girl's ribs were hurt; ribs protect the lungs, and if breathing hurt, then speaking would be affected.

Carefully, she pulled her arm out from beneath the girl and used it to try and rotate Quinn onto her back, something the blonde gave her a solid smack to the collarbone for, but otherwise refrained from violence. It was dark, and Quinn was, like, ninety five percent covered by her comforter, but she needed to know what hurt. "What happened, Q?"

"Don't, San. Not tonight." Quinn urged darkly, but Santana wasn't having any of the girl's warning. The last time she pressed, it hadn't been about a tremendously important issue, and Quinn was hormonal, so that had been a heavy risk going in. This time around, the blonde was her normal, sober self, and Santana had a good idea what was going on again.

"Q, I can't be your friend if you won't let me." Santana spoke, frustrated with the situation, but forcing herself to be calm; if anything Rachel's presence had helped with that. The diva really did have a gift for keeping most things in perspective, and Santana had more or less found herself focusing on a long-term goal in order to keep cool-headed in such situations.

"A good friend would support me and not push me, San. You know what happened last time." That warning was clearer than the one before, and Quinn sounded entirely serious, so Santana swiftly straddled the girl's waist and sat on her thighs, keeping the blonde grounded. "San…" Quinn growled, which was almost kind of scary, but she knew Q wouldn't really hurt her.

As carefully as she could, Santana pulled the comforter away from them, giving her room to move as Quinn glared at her. "A best friend, Q…" She started, gently rolling the girl's tank top up her torso to expose Quinn's upper body and survey the damage. "A best friend would do anything to keep you safe and free from abuse, Quinn. We both know what happened before." She finished, choking back her emotions as she saw a massive dark bruise all along the left side of the blonde's ribs.

Santana wanted nothing more at that moment than to kill Russell Fabray. She'd dreamed of how it would happen for years now, though they'd been less frequent since Quinn had been disowned initially, and with Russell away. For years, she'd sat by and watched the abuse accumulate on poor Lucy. Lucy, who was "_too fat to be a Fabray_". Lucy, who "_looked like Judy's failure of a mother, Harriet_" because of her brown hair. Lucy, who was practically an 'it', "_for not being womanly like her mother and sister_" and for thinking she could "_aspire to the greatness of men_", all for liking to read and having opinions. Lucy, whose nose made her look "_like a dirty Jew_". And so on, and so forth. In that house, Russell was the only one who was allowed to speak words, but Santana was sure that when he doled out punishment, the girls would break. Especially poor Lucy. Her Lucy.

She'd tried. Really, she'd called the police, she'd gotten her parents to try, but nothing ever helped. And Lucy would just show up with more bruises under her sweaters and skirts. Even when Lucy became Quinn, it continued, if less frequently, though Russell tended to make up for it through added force, as a reminder to not get complacent or regress. Quinn had stretch-marks now to match the scars from the belt and other items he'd used; the man rarely broke bone, but from the look of the blonde's current wounds, it seemed he'd maybe passed that milestone with some fractures.

"It's not that bad. I convinced dad I couldn't go to camp tomorrow because too many of the other girls hug, and they'd find out." Quinn whispered sadly, attempting to offer a reassuring smile, but it just looked like a weird grimace. "He and mom will be gone most of tomorrow visiting Frannie, so just…let's get some sleep, okay? I'm tired."

Santana considered it, but ultimately decided to explore a bit, using her hands to feel around the rest of the girl's torso, finding Quinn flinching as her hands lightly rubbed various areas of her back. _He threw her against the wall and probably fractured her fibs from punching or kicking her…yeah, probably a kick, given how deep that bruise looked…_

Wordlessly, she slipped off of Quinn and got her back flat on the mattress before rolling Quinn over to lie mostly on top of her. "This way, your ribs aren't being pressured and neither is your back." She explained softly, drawing a hesitant nod from the blonde. "If he ever hurts you again, I want you to come here, okay? You'll be safe, and I'll…you know. I promised you, you know that."

"San…" Quinn breathed out, taking a moment to get comfy and pull the comforter over them before bringing her eyes back up to meet Santana's dark ones. "San, you know I can't just leave."

Even if it was the truth, it hurt to hear. It hurt to see her close friend battered and bruised, and unwilling to just get the hell out. It hurt that all she could ever offer was moral support and a warm bed to sleep in when the damage was done. "Your reasons had better be worth this, Q." she noted softly, wrapping her arms a little above the girl's hips to have at least some hold on her friend. "It sucks so fucking much, okay? Just…promise me something, alright?"

Quinn was quiet for a few agonizingly long moments, but eventually nodded against her collarbone. Santana knew that she'd already stepped past her usual boundaries of vulnerability, but between the damaged girl in her arms, and the one in the basement that she'd found in the park broken and bleeding, it was hard to keep a hold of everything she was feeling inside. "Promise me that one day you'll be happy, and I won't have to worry anymore."

In all honesty, she knew it was a lot to promise. With Rachel being a vampire, she knew she'd be in for some serious shit going forward, but Santana at least needed to know that Quinn would be free of Lima and her family one day, and would have a chance at loving life again. She needed some hope that what she'd been saying to Rachel, what she'd been helping Brittany aspire to believe, and what she'd been preaching to Quinn would truly happen. Most days, she was strong enough to not let her mind wander to those unanswered dilemmas and unknown futures, but in that bed, holding Quinn, it was just a little too heavy for her faith to handle.

And when long seconds passed into minutes with Quinn still and silent against her, she couldn't help but just try to hold everything in, to keep herself from collapsing as her body shook with barely-caged emotion. But she was silent too as she forced herself as still as possible, her cheeks and eyes as dry as possible, her throat and mouth as noiseless as possible. Even though they both knew better, she'd play it off as a hiccup, or a coughing fit, or even a bad dream or something like that if Quinn ever asked, but she knew the blonde wouldn't. Quinn had requested silence from her, and had learned the cost of it. There was nothing more to say.

* * *

It was fucking cold as hell out in McKinley High's parking lot as Santana waited for the goddamn bus to arrive. They'd been out there for nearly an hour and a half and it was only just getting to be six in the morning; Santana had an idea that this was another of Sue's character-building tests, but she had better things to spend her life on than freezing on a cold December morning. As far as she figured, her crazy coach was lucky they were heading to a state championship, because anything less would have had her going all Lima Heights Adjacent on the woman.

But still, there she stood, breathing hot air into her hands and rubbing them together to try and keep warm. Rachel had tried to get her to bring some damn mittens, but she'd assured the diva that there wouldn't be any point, given that she'd just be making a switch in the parking lot. _Maybe I should listen more to her weirdo sixth sense sometimes, I guess…_ she mused to herself, wishing she was confident enough that her car could handle acting as a furnace, but it had been so long since the battery had been changed, and it was low on gas, and she really didn't know cars well enough to trust that her car wouldn't die on her in the damn parking lot.

It was bad enough that she'd be spending a little over a day away from home, having to deal with a busted up car would have just made it all worse. Still, she'd made sure to go over a plethora of routines with Rachel, quizzing the girl on all the safeguards and plans they'd conjured up over the past weeks in case of an emergency. It was the first time she was leaving for anything near an extended period of time, and she was admittedly a little worried. Santana wasn't the most complex thinker most times, and as far as she was concerned, if she wasn't around to protect the girl, she couldn't keep her promise. It all boiled down to that, really.

Santana also would have felt more confident if Rachel hadn't told her about the increased foot traffic around the house from sundown to sunrise; most of it was on the sidewalk outside, or the unfinished housing development past the backyard, but it was concerning given the curfew and the fact that there was no reason for people to be hanging around like that, or walking by so frequently. Santana hoped it was just some unruly teens, and not vampires or hunters or whatever else was out there, trying to get their stupid hands on Rachel.

It was weird, but she'd gotten pretty close with the weird little hobbit. It had taken some time to realize it, but the girl had taken up a part in her life much like Quinn in that she'd grown familiar with Rachel's diva ways and craziness. With much of that stripped away, Santana found herself missing those parts of the diva, because even if they were a little annoying, they were more endearing and motivating. It was all hard to explain and wrap her head around, but she'd missed Berry when she disappeared, and even now she missed the rambling and wacky over-dramatic antics. So she'd been doing the odd thing every few days whenever she could scrape up the free time, trying to help remind Rachel that she was still a teenager; that she could still let loose and have fun with her hobbies, and just exist for a bit without all the usual worries and stress.

Rachel, at least, seemed to appreciate those moments, even if sometimes they didn't last too long. Just seeing those ridiculously big smiles on the girl's face was nice; they used to happen all the time before the attack, but they were pretty damn rare these days. _And Berry is kind of one of my people now, so I have a duty as a friend or some shit to keep her happy and hopeful. It's, like, a rule or something._

Santana was broken from her thoughts by a light poke to her shoulder; curious, she turned to find Britt standing deep in her personal space wearing her usual goofy, giddy smile. She returned the smile and cocked her head, silently questioning what was up, kind of glad to be interacting with the blonde again. It had been a while since their mutual separation, and she'd needed a bit of space from the bubbly girl before she could feel normal around her again. It had worked, for the most part, but then the disappearances started happening, and she kind of got too busy to truly reconnect with Britt.

The blonde simply gestured with her head to follow her over toward the nearby trees, away from the pack of the Cheerios, so she did, wondering what the girl wanted that demanded privacy, given that Britt was usually very public with anything she said or did. Once they had put a fair bit of distance between themselves and the pack, the blonde spun around and launched herself at Santana, hugging her fiercely.

And it really didn't feel awkward, or sad, or anything less than nice. It was more of a relief than anything, knowing she could receive her former girlfriend's affection and just treat her as a best friend again.

"How've you been, San? I haven't seen you in forever!" Brittany practically squealed as she gave Santana another tight squeeze before stepping back a teensy bit.

She felt that shred of guilt billow up again, but she pushed it back down, knowing that she had legitimate reasons for her recent lack of quality time spent with the blonde. "I'm sorry for not making time, Britt-Britt, I've just been busy, you know? School and everything."

"It's okay, San. I know you have Ms. Wallace for your physics class, and she's like, super mean whenever she fills in as my trigonometry teacher and always crushes the paper ducks I make, and she marks really hard, and she has this really weird lisp. So I like totally understand that, and I know keeping Rachel safe is, like, totes important too." Britt rambled in her usual bubbly tone, and Santana couldn't help but nod and agree that Ms. Wallace really was a stone-cold bitch. The woman was one of the hardest markers in the school, docking marks for trivial things like having messily scribed formulas and symbols, among other stupid things. _God, I can't wait until this semester's over and I won't have to deal with her anymo…wait…waitwaitwaitwait, what did she…Rachel?_

Santana wasn't sure how long her brain was malfunctioning for, her mouth simply sputtering out random hushed syllables in the time it took to really gather her mental faculties and properly process whatever the fuck was going on. It was like a massive punch in the ovaries; for weeks, she'd been running trials with Rachel in case something came up in public, and after hours of training, there she was frozen. Frozen, panicking, and incapable of forming words. The thought of being approached by a hunter or a vampire and having that reaction reveal Rachel's position managed to snap her out of her stupor due to the immense ripple of fear that rushed through her body.

Thankfully, Brittany seemed to notice, and just pulled Santana in for another hug. It wasn't really comforting, but at least she understood the intent, and appreciated it. "It's okay, San. I'm, like, totally Team Rachel in this, and I'm happy you're looking after her. I knew you'd be really good at it."

Santana tried to let Brittany's words sink in, but she couldn't get past the fact that the blonde somehow knew, and that scared the fuck out of her, even if Britt seemed happy and calm about it all.

"Are you…are you fucking serious right now, B?" She breathed out, still trying to calm herself down, knowing that panicking and freaking out was not a very good thing to be doing in that situation. She needed to be composed, and to have a clear head, because if Britt knew, then others might also, and that meant Rachel was in danger.

Almost as if reading her mind, Britt stepped back and gave Santana a sad smile. "Yep. But you need to tell Rachel to get out of the house as soon as the sun's down, because people have totes been scoping out your house all week, and they're probably gonna do something bad while we're gone."

Santana was surprised that instead of freezing once more like she had mere seconds ago, she felt entirely compelled to run to her car and drive home to defend her and Rachel's sanctuary. Or lay some goddamn motherfucking traps for any jackasses who thought they could break into her home without consequence. She could feel the anger building inside of her, her heart beating furiously from both rage and fear, and had to really focus on her long term goal of keeping Rachel safe to keep from exploding into a five foot five ball of fury. _Rachel…gotta focus on how to keep her safe, and if people are coming…if people are breaking in tonight, or this weekend, then she needs to get somewhere safe, because home won't be safe anymore. And…maybe if they don't find her, or any evidence of her, then they won't break in again. So traps…maybe not the best idea. Okay…deep breaths, because Britt's looking at me funny and I should probably say something…_

"What do I need to do? Do I skip cheer? She needs to be safe, Britt, and if it's not at home, then I need to find her somewhere safe. I can't do that in Cleveland. Fuck, Sue's gonna kill me! QUINN's gonna kill me!" Santana rambled as her mind tried to find a solution, building up possible options only to quickly realize they were either impossible or too flawed. It made her feel helpless, and that was something Santana Lopez was NOT comfortable with at all.

Britt, however, shook her head and sneakily linked pinkies with her, a manner of affection that had always managed to soothe Santana, at least a little bit. Enough for her to focus back on the blonde. "No, you have to go to the competition. You will go to the competition. No one…well, it doesn't seem like anyone really suspects you like, super a lot, it's just that your house is really huge and both you and your dad aren't home a lot during daylight hours. That's why people have been checking around when the sun goes down, but not too long after. But maybe they just want to be sure no one's hiding out, I'm not sure. Your house IS really awesome for hide and seek, San." The blonde explained, and it did make sense, even if it was a bit unnerving to hear the girl speak so seriously, at least for the most part.

And it was a bit of a relief that the interest in her home wasn't apparently incredibly serious. She could work with that, and hopefully they'd be able to keep the place safe until graduation. "Rachel doesn't have much of her own stuff, we've made sure of that, so there wouldn't be a trace given a few minutes of advance notice. Even our books we've used for research are hidden away in dusty old boxes…unless someone looks really close, there's nothing to find. All Berry would need to do is move the mattress and our stuffed animals back to the guest room, and do some minor cleaning." Santana noted more to herself in listing off necessary preparations than anything else. It was still dark out, so with a quick text, she could be sure that Rachel would be ready come sundown.

So she pulled out her phone and started typing up a quick message for the girl, knowing that Rachel will probably be annoyed by the lack of notice and ability to use the comfier attic sleeping area, but it was better than nothing. "You've always been a really smart cookie, San. Like, definitely one of those cookies with the gooey chocolate or cream inside, because I'm not sure how that happens, but it probably takes some really smart people." Britt spoke, the familiarity of the girl's oddness making her feel a little more comfortable about the situation. Which, really, still didn't make her comfortable with it, but she wasn't about to blow a gasket. "Oh, and tell her to go to the McDowell Reservoir. My family will bring her somewhere safe for the weekend."

Santana nodded and added Brittany's request at the end before hitting send, feeling like it was all pretty much out of her hands now. People were invading, Rachel was going to have to run away from home again, and she wasn't going to be around to help. It really sucked. Everything was riding on other people's efforts now, and that had her nervous and feeling unsettled, not comfortable with the lack of control. Rachel wasn't just her responsibility now, she was her close friend, and even just knowing that the girl was in danger had her on edge and worrying. _I made a promise…_

"Britt…" She started, not feeling at all happy or comfortable with what she was about to say, because she'd never ever used such a one with the girl before, but it was something that had to be done. Her world had changed drastically over the past few weeks, and even her childhood friendship with Britt wasn't outside of investigation now. "If this is a trick to lure Rachel away and kill her, I…fuck, I can't promise that I won't look for payback. I love your parents…your whole family…but I promised her she'd be safe with me, B. If they hurt her, I'll hurt them."

Britt nodded and playfully swung their linked hands in the air a little. "I know, San. I'll totally explain everything when we get back."

It didn't make her feel a hell of a lot better, given all the questions still aimlessly floating in her head, but she accepted that answer for now. "Good, because I'd really hate to make you sad, Britt, but I'd do it."

"And that's why I know you're good for her." Britt stated happily, her giddy smile back with a vengeance, and while it was a little contagious, Santana's didn't quite meet her eyes.

None of her smiles did that day, not while feeling she'd failed her first test.

* * *

Rachel had left almost immediately when The Weather network stated sundown occurred. The sun was still sending its rays reflecting through the twilight, so her skin stung, but thankfully there would be no physically enduring damage aside from the annoying ache it left for a mere fifteen minutes. And really, what was fifteen minutes when she was probably immortal and could live for all eternity? Time wasn't something she'd quite been able to wrap her head around philosophically since her transformation, and she wasn't sure that such understanding could come without a wealth of experience, sadly. Most of which would likely see her outliving everyone she loved. Not a very pleasant thought.

The trip to the reservoir wasn't tremendously long, but she'd taken some extra time in order to be as sneaky and stealthy as possible, keeping a keen eye, ear and nose on her surroundings for any dangers. The fact that she was being hunted couldn't be any more present in her mind, given the fact that she'd been forced out of her home, however new it was, by potentially the people after her. When Rachel arrived, she couldn't help but admit the tranquility of it all; winter really gave the area a certain peaceful atmosphere, and had her thinking that maybe she'd take Santana out there one night to stargaze or just relax. She couldn't help but smile at the idea, thinking that it would be rather delightful.

After about ten or so minutes of waiting, some noise in the woods to the northeast grabbed her attention, and soon three wolves emerged, slowing from a fair pace to a calm trot before stopping in front of her. All of them shared a similar grey fur coat, with slight differences between them, yet a small trail of white above their left eye and wrapping over and behind their heads brought back memories of the wolf from the nature trail Santana had found her in.

The beasts didn't remain still for long, the lead turning and gesturing towards where they had come from before breaking out into a slow jog, one that she did her best to match, given her generally low energy levels. While the reminder of the wolf from the park was enough to mostly calm her nerves, she tried to remind herself that Santana wouldn't put her in danger, that the girl knew what she was doing. That the wolves would help; how she found out about the wolves was something she was curious about, but she would have time later to interrogate her housemate.

She'd already called the cheerleader, after all, pretending to be her father on the phone. It was their way of ensuring that their text-based communication was truthful, and since Santana didn't use any of the code words, she was about ninety nine percent certain that the girl hadn't been coerced.

After nearly an hour of straight jogging through wilderness, they came upon a clearing with what looked to be a farmhouse atop a slight hill. The four of them progressed towards it until they were within a decent range of the door, where the three wolves slowed to a stop and began shaking and panting.

And before she could really take in what was happening, there were three tremendously nude individuals running for the backdoor of the home and waving her in, yelling out complaints about the cold that she really hadn't caught in her absolute feelings of morbid embarrassment. Which, really, was something of a nice feeling, even if she was shocked and aghast, because it was instinct; it was her human side showing in full force.

It didn't take long for her to reach the house and, deciding that the others were casual about entry, soon she found herself waltzing into a kitchen area filled with mostly dressed, familiar blonde people. People she had met at a glee competition in junior year, who had been so proud of their daughter's dancing abilities.

Rachel wasn't quite sure where Brittany fit into her predicament, but with the kind smiles on her fellow gleek's parents' faces, she couldn't really find it in herself to worry too heavily about it. The Pierces were family to Santana, as far as she was aware, and just knowing that had her feeling about half as safe as she would have been in her new home. As the parental figures offered her a 'snack' and showed her where she'd be spending the weekend, she smiled and did her best to be polite, but all the while couldn't help but wonder how Brittany of all people managed to sniff her out.

* * *

**A/N: And that's the third chapter! Things will start to ramp up a bit from here, as more and more people shift into the picture. I know there was a lot to digest in this chapter, but I thought it was for the best to get a lot of it out of the way. I felt the need to really integrate all four girls into the story at this point, to cover vampire lore (or, at least, their current understanding of it through experimentation), and to set the plot ball in motion. **

**Been finishing the background lore for this in my spare time, so when paper-writing season started (also known as 'sitting at home in my pajamas, typing away on my computer' season), I more or less found myself a little ahead of schedule, and was able to push this out easily due to the lore document being fresh in my mind. Was fun to do, even with the angst don't expect any Feathers/Sanvean/Mirrorball until at least the 11th or 12th, because my final 3 papers need finishing by the 9th, and writing quality academic work takes time. :\ But there will still be Christmas fluff.  
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**Anywho, thanks so much to everyone for the support, and for taking the time out of your days(and nights) to read my stories :) Writing is such amazing fun, but knowing I can provide some entertainment is also a pretty nice feeling, so it's just pretty awesome. **

**Have a good one!**


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